Narcissa Militant
by Lomonaaeren
Summary: AU. Narcissa is actually the source of the Malfoy family's wealth—and not because she inherited the Black fortune, either. She's an in-demand spy and assassin. But now she's retired, and intent on using all her skills to make sure her baby boy gets what he wants. If that's Harry Potter, then Harry Potter he shall have.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Narcissa Militant  
 **Disclaimer:** J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.  
 **Content Notes:** AU, crack, minor character deaths, violence  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Pairing:** Harry/Draco, Lucius/Narcissa  
 **Summary:** AU. Narcissa is actually the source of the Malfoy family's wealth—and not because she inherited the Black fortune, either. She's an in-demand spy and assassin. But now she's retired, and intent on using all her skills to make sure her baby boy gets what he wants. If that's Harry Potter, then Harry Potter he shall have.  
 **Author's Notes:** This is the first of seven chapters. It is not meant to be taken at all seriously.

 **Narcissa Militant**

"Mum! I met a boy in the robe shop! He's going to Hogwarts too!"

Narcissa dropped a kiss on Draco's head and guided him gently towards Ollivander's. He would, of course, have to choose his own wand, but Narcissa and her knives had explained to Ollivander that the wands he thought most likely to be compatible with Draco would be waiting in boxes near the front of the shop.

"That's nice, dear. Who was he?"

Draco opened his mouth, then frowned and shook his head. "I don't actually know. He didn't tell me his name. He just said his parents were a witch and a wizard."

"That's more than acceptable," Narcissa told Draco, and squeezed his shoulder when he looked up at her for reassurance. "Now, let's get you a wand. I think you might have one with a unicorn hair core."

Draco's mouth dropped. "Dragon heartstring is more exciting."

"Then it will be dragon heartstring."

Draco tilted his head back to look up at her. "How do you _know_ , though? I heard the wand chooses the wizard. So what happens if one with a core of dragon heartstring doesn't actually choose me?"

"Mother will take care of it." Narcissa stroked his hair. "Mother will take care of _everything_."

And she did. There might be less that could be done to threaten wands than human beings, but the wands had enough magic to recognize a threat to carve them in half, and in the end Draco was the proud owner of a hawthorn wand with a dragon heartstring core that played musical notes when he waved it as a test. He beamed up at her, and Narcissa kissed his cheek again, and caught sight of a man from the corner of her eye who had been following them from Madam Malkin's, staring at Draco. Now he was staring through Ollivander's window. Narcissa smiled and stepped outside to talk to him.

She did have to cast the charm that buried the body more quickly than usual. It was harder to be efficient and quiet about that in the middle of Diagon Alley. But it was accomplished, and she went back home with Draco waving his wand through the air and practicing _Lumos_. It lit up on the third try, after Narcissa laid her hand on her own wand and gave the hawthorn one a meaningful smile.

Draco didn't talk much more about the boy from the robe shop, other than to comment on his green eyes. Narcissa only nodded in response. Right now, Draco didn't sound as if he was that interested in the boy.

If that changed, Narcissa would be ready. There couldn't be _that_ many green-eyed wizarding boys heading to Hogwarts for their first year.

* * *

"Have you read Draco's letter?"

Narcissa pulled back from cutting the dummy's femoral artery and frowned at Lucius. "Of course I have. Draco comes before my training, you know that." She kicked the dummy's leg from under it and watched in satisfaction as it collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. She'd got better at creating realistic training dummies as the years passed.

Lucius cleared his throat. Narcissa smirked at him from over her shoulder. She knew what the pink tint to his cheeks meant.

"When I'm done deciding what I should do," she said, and passed him with a pat on his arm.

Lucius spun to watch her as she put away the bloodied knives and picked up her wand again. "Do you have to practice the shield that deflects bullets?"

"Of course I do. What happens if Draco decides that he wants to take over the Muggle world someday? I'll have to be prepared." Narcissa cast the skin-tight shield around herself and then the spell that created dummies with Muggle weapons. Lucius prudently ducked out of the room.

When all the dummies were cut into small splinters, he stepped back in. "What are you going to do about Draco's request?"

"Get him Harry Potter's friendship, of course." Narcissa cast yet another spell that dried the blood in her hair and made it drift to the floor in black flakes. The house-elves would take care of that. "I did consider killing the boy, but he could hardly befriend Draco if he was dead."

"No," Lucius agreed, staring at her in fascination.

"And it would upset Draco. So I am going to give Mr. Potter a reason to think better of the Malfoys." Narcissa held out her hand and beckoned. "Come here, Lucius."

He moved towards her with alacrity.

* * *

Narcissa spun smoothly to the side, her spell cutting off the reaching talons of the werewolf Greyback had lent her. She shook her head as she watched her next one slice his neck, and the third take off the head completely. She hadn't _specifically_ asked Greyback for members of his pack who were so wolfish they had their intimidating features even in human form, only for ones he wouldn't mind losing, but this was all to the good for her purposes.

She turned around and gently crouched down in front of the Potter boy, who was staring at her with wide eyes. Draco had told her, among the many other complaints he made about Harry Potter, that he liked to wander in the Forbidden Forest. It had been easy to set up an ambush that Narcissa would "save" him from.

"Are you all right, Mr. Potter?" she asked him.

Potter opened his mouth as if he would say no, and then looked over her shoulder at the blood soaking into the leaves. "You saved my life."

"Yes." Narcissa absently wiped off the blood still clinging to one hand on her robes. "Do you know who I am?"

He looked her in the eye and silently shook his head.

"Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother."

His eyes widened. Yes, green, just as Draco had described. A pretty color, too. Narcissa could see why Draco would be so smitten with him. "But Draco is—"

"My son," Narcissa interrupted, before he could say something she would _have_ to kill him for. "But he's very sorry about the bad start that you got off to." She had sent Draco a gently-worded letter when he'd told her about the insult he'd given to Weasley. She had raised a smarter son than that. "And he did tell me that he would be upset if something happened to you. I've been keeping an eye on you from a distance."

To her surprise, it was her last statement that seemed to garner Potter's attention the most. "There are—charms that can let you do that?"

Narcissa nodded. "And other spells. They let me know when you were in danger and when you hurt yourself, such as when you cut your hand in Herbology the other day, and they told me of your emotions spiking when you were anxious or upset. Why?"

Potter's mouth was a tight, dramatic line. "Could someone use them in the Muggle world?'

"Not all over the Muggle world. They would have to be placed on a certain, specific building, and the outside of the building imbued with magic. But then, yes, they could be used. Why?"

Potter looked slowly up at her. "Why did no one ever come?" he whispered, but even though the words were soft, they seemed to burst from behind a dam. "If they could _know_ I was upset and hurt, why didn't they come?"

Narcissa was hardly the type to let information pass her by. Her voice was a gentle purr as she folded her hand over Potter's shoulder and whispered, "Tell me."

* * *

Narcissa smiled over at Harry and Draco, their heads cuddled together as they opened the presents under the tree. Of course Draco's pile was larger than Harry's, but Narcissa had bought plenty for him as well. Draco would be upset if his friend was treated as less than he was.

Lucius gave her a pained glance. Narcissa sighed, stood, and stepped outside the room, turning around as Lucius followed her into the corridor. "Yes?"

"Is this _necessary_?"

Narcissa cast without verbalizing the spell. In a second, Lucius's hands were bound together behind his back, he had toppled so that he was leaning on the wall instead of balancing on his feet, and he was staring up at the ceiling. Narcissa stalked towards him and used her wand to tickle his throat.

"Lucius. What did we talk about when we agreed to wed, you and I?"

"Um—I would give you children. And you would—you would give me—"

"Everything else," Narcissa agreed, a sense of humor returning to her. It was adorable, in a way, that Lucius still had trouble speaking of his desires all these years later. "Yes. I have kept my side of the bargain, have I not?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you more than one child, Narcissa."

She cocked her head in silence. It wasn't his fault, truly, so much as the fault of some of the spells that her mother had cast on her when she was young, trying to force Narcissa into the mold of the "perfect" Black daughter. Her mother had been Narcissa's first kill, and still one of her most satisfying. "Not your fault. But I have kept my side of the bargain." She waited for him to nod. "And you know how I feel about my son. And how I'll keep him safe. And what it means for your following of the Dark Lord."

"I _know_. But…Harry Potter living in our house, not at his Muggle relatives'?"

"I took care of his Muggle relatives."

"You killed them?"

The voice came from behind her. Narcissa turned around, a bit angry with herself that she hadn't kept her conversation with Lucius private enough. But Harry was only standing and staring at her, and Draco had a hand on his shoulder in support.

Even though Draco looked shocked, he still had the relaxation of forming lines in his face that meant he was happier than he had been in years. Narcissa had never realized he was missing a friend, or she would have provided him one before now. But she was happy enough that things had worked out this way.

"No," Narcissa said. It was true. "I only explained that you were going, and they were to tell the truth to _no_ wizard who tried to question them." She had reinforced the command with spells. Not even someone armed with Legilimency or Veritaserum was going to get the truth out of the Muggles now.

And if she had added a few other spells in revenge for what her son's friend had suffered there, it wasn't like she had left the Muggles with the ability to speak about _that_ , either.

"Oh." Harry shuffled. Then he took a deep breath and asked. "Were there monitoring charms on the house?"

Narcissa hesitated, different impulses warring inside her: to keep secrets, to ease the conscience of her son's friend, to spare Draco from a hard truth, to make sure that no lies could ever trap her. Then she said, "Yes."

"Oh," Harry said again, and closed his eyes. Narcissa knew she had confirmed his fear that someone had been watching over him, but had never cared enough for him to intervene.

"There are _lots_ of monitoring charms here," Draco said loudly, not understanding the whole situation, Narcissa knew, but still working to clarify it, and comfort his friend. "It gets tiring sometimes. Anyway, Harry. Let's go open the rest of our presents! You never opened that one with the handwriting I don't recognize." And he tugged Harry back into the drawing room, and Narcissa heard them _plump_ down near the tree.

"You did take care of it the right way," Lucius said, not much of a question in his voice.

"Of course." Narcissa leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Then she breathed into his ear, "And I'm going to make sure that _you're_ taken care of, once we've opened the rest of the presents and Draco and Harry are properly occupied."

Yes, his blush was still adorable.

* * *

"Harry almost _died_ , Mum!"

Narcissa touched Draco's cheek and sat down next to him in the hospital wing. Because they didn't want anyone realizing they had taken over as Harry's guardians, she'd had to sneak her way into Hogwarts, and thus to Draco's side and Harry's bed. "Tell me what happened, darling."

From the fragmented way Draco told it—a troll, and a chess set, and a mirror, and a Stone—Narcissa didn't think she was getting the whole story. It was only what Harry had been able to tell him before he passed out from the healing potions, and Narcissa trusted that she would get a much better recollection from Harry later. But she had heard enough to know that Harry hadn't gone into the maze of traps on his own. There were two other Gryffindors who had gone with him.

And one of them was resting in the hospital wing right now, unconscious himself, but only in regular sleep, not from healing potions. Narcissa stepped lightly up to Ron Weasley's bed and woke him with a shake of his shoulder.

"Wh—"

There was also a hand over his mouth, which prevented him from shouting out. Narcissa delved easily, lightly, into his mind. She had learned knife-strokes of more than the merely physical variety.

What she found confirmed her suspicions. The children had been hearing little "hints" about Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone all year, and the traps protecting it were absurdly simple. Harry had kept the secret from all of them because his friends had demanded he do so, afraid they were "losing" him to the Malfoys. That was something she would have to talk to him about.

But first, she had something to do about the absolutely absurd manipulation Harry had been subjected to.

Narcissa stood and let Weasley slip into sleep and forgetfulness, with the aid of a carefully-placed _Obliviate_. Then she walked back to Draco and bent down to touch her lips to his forehead. "I'm going to go take care of something, darling."

"Something that will benefit me?"

Narcissa smiled slowly. He had always believed her when she said that, and it was true. She had never failed him. But this was the first time he had stared back at her with that sharp spark of intelligence in his eyes.

"Yes, my loved one. Always."

Draco looked down at Harry motionless in his bed, and swallowed. "Thank you, Mother. Sometimes I think that—he's all I have."

"Your only friend," Narcissa said, and caressed his cheek with her wand. "But don't forget that you have a family."

He flung his arms around her, and Narcissa let him rest his head against her chest and breathe in her scent. Then she gently pulled him towards the door. There were a few people, mostly Gryffindors, who would become restless if they found him here.

She did hear his last words as he left the hospital wing and turned towards the dungeons.

"Thank you, Mother."

Narcissa stroked the back of his head—still as soft as when he had lain on her chest, newborn, and she had known she would never love anyone as much—and then slipped away down the corridor, remembering what she knew of portraits, and phoenixes.

* * *

Lucius choked on his tea when he saw the headline.

"Narcissa, you did _not_ kill the Headmaster."

Narcissa glanced up from where she was carefully eating the toast that the house-elves had put in front of her. Her burned, bandaged hands would have made holding most ordinary breakfast food difficult. "No, I didn't."

"Then what—"

"I took control of his phoenix and made _it_ kill him."

Lucius slumped back in his seat and covered his eyes with his hand. "All right. What in the world convinced you this was a good idea?"

Narcissa told him about what she had discovered in Weasley's memories, and Lucius's face grew thinner and paler and more pinched as he listened. Then he glanced at the newspaper and ended up nodding slowly.

"I still wish that you'd discussed this with me before you did it. But I can understand why you felt you needed to."

Narcissa stood and leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you, dear. I promise that later, when our boys have exhausted themselves with playing, we'll see about rewarding that patience and loyalty of yours." She squeezed his arm, and listened to him groan, and went outside with a smile to watch Harry and Draco circle on their brooms.

Harry saw her and shouted happily. Draco did the same thing, but the smile he gave her was more secret, more private, more compelling and dark.

Narcissa smiled more widely and praised their skill when they called down to her.

 _It is nice to be understood._


	2. Narcissa Secretive

This is the second chapter, the _Chamber of Secrets_ AU. It will have a second chapter, to be posted next week.

Narcissa felt the Dark magic around the book the instant Lucius brought it out of the library.

Of course, she didn't let on that she had. She only watched the thin black object from the corner of her eye as they ate breakfast and Draco chattered away about the school supplies he and Harry were going to get in Diagon Alley that day. Lucius didn't seem distracted, which meant this object wasn't a source of anxiety.

Not newly-acquired. Not one he was dying to get rid of. Of course, with the chaos that had followed the Headmaster's death in the spring, the Ministry _still_ hadn't managed to get organized enough to conduct the frequent raids on Dark families that they'd been planning at the start of the year.

Which meant the object had been here. In the house. With her son.

"And I want to make sure that Harry gets a _Nimbus 2001_!" Draco declared.

Narcissa studied the look on Draco's face, and smiled a little. That he wanted the broom for Harry and not himself was just another sign of how good Harry was for her son. "Of course," she said smoothly. "And no doubt, Harry, you will put it to good use making sure the Slytherin Quidditch team cannot win this year?"

Harry blushed. "Well, I mean, I _am_ a Gryffindor, Mrs. Mal—"

"Narcissa. Or Mother, if you can manage it."

Harry dropped his toast on his plate and stared at her. Narcissa smiled. "You didn't insist on that before," Harry noted cautiously.

"I am not insisting on it now. Only if you can manage it."

Draco was scowling. Narcissa suspected she knew why. She would speak to him later. For the moment, a challenge would be good for him. She leaned forwards, across the table, and patted Harry's hand when he only spluttered. "You've lived with us all summer. Surely you don't need to call me by my last name?"

"The last name you could _share_ , if you wanted to," Draco muttered.

"Um—Narcissa," said Harry. "I'm sorry, but calling someone else Mother is…"

"Of course," Narcissa said softly. While she could not feel much sympathy for many of those dead in the first war—they would have survived if they'd been better fighters—she did honor Lily Potter, who had died fighting for her son in the only way that Narcissa could imagine doing. "My first name will do well."

Both boys ran off soon after that, with Draco already telling Harry that they should get to the broom shop early before it filled up with eager customers. Lucius started to stand and picked up the book from the chair.

Narcissa's throwing knife went between the splayed fingers of his hand and affixed the book to the upholstery. Lucius looked ill for a second. Narcissa knew it couldn't be because she had barely missed him. He knew enough about her skill to know that if she had _meant_ to hit him, she would have.

"Narcissa! This belonged to _him_."

"You were hiding it in my house. Without my permission. With Draco around."

Lucius turned white. "Technically, Malfoy Manor is the home of _my_ ancestors, _"_ he started.

"Which you were on the verge of losing until my successful assassinations saved it." Narcissa moved towards him with her hair and robes rippling behind her. "Lucius. What is that object?"

"A bo—" Perhaps Lucius could tell from the look in her eyes that it was better for him not to mouth off to her today. He swallowed weakly, and muttered, "I don't know. Just that it's important to _him_ , and he told me to keep it safe."

"That is not all he told you, Lucius."

"Nar—"

"I will not have sex with you ever again."

Lucius snapped horrified eyes to her. Narcissa waited. She had looked into far more despairing faces than his. In the end, Lucius was the one to look away, swallowing nervously.

"He told me that it would return to Hogwarts, and make a student there open the Chamber of the Secrets," he whispered. "The Heir of Slytherin. The school would finally be cleansed of Mud—"

Narcissa stared at him. He cut himself off. With Harry in the house, Narcissa had forbidden the speaking of that word.

And what Narcissa forbade _stayed_ forbidden.

"Give me the book," Narcissa said, and extended her hand.

Lucius hesitated, because he was not alone in fearing the Dark Lord. But in the end, of course, he broke and handed it to her. He might fear both of them, but Narcissa was the one immediately in front of him.

* * *

"I don't see how you can take _their_ side!"

"You're both my friends, Draco! I'm just trying to keep anyone from being hurt!"

Narcissa stepped in between Harry and Draco with a faint sigh. She had avoided the crowd at the bookshop because crowds made her eager to get out of them. Besides, a promising contract had come up and she had needed to scout out her target from a distance. "Boys," she said, and led them down a side alley where people were less likely to hear them arguing. "What did I tell you about dissenting in public?"

Harry hesitated and cast down his head, but Draco looked up at her and pointed an accusing finger. "He _said_ that he was my friend, too! He swore it! But then Father and Mr. Weasel started arguing, and Harry took _their_ side!"

 _I knew I shouldn't have let Lucius go out without supervision._ "What were they arguing about?" Narcissa asked Harry gently, crouching down in front of him.

Harry swallowed and looked up at her. His eyes were green and large and utterly unclouded with guile. Narcissa had never needed Legilimency to read _his_ mind. "He made fun of the Weasleys for being poor. I—I was poor, too. I mean, I thought I was poor until I came to the wizarding world. I never had anything. How could I just stand there and not say something?"

Narcissa considered him carefully. Many thoughts raced and danced in her brain: the perfidy of Muggles, regret that the youngest Weasleys had got to Harry first, how she would have liked to resurrect Albus Dumbledore and kill him again. "You realize that you are not truly poor, Harry?"

"But I still didn't have anything."

"How? What?" Draco asked.

Draco didn't know all the details of Harry's childhood, and Narcissa didn't consider this the right time for him to learn them. She gave Draco a mildly scolding glare and looked at Harry. "I promise, Harry, we are going to do all we can to heal you from this."

"From fighting with the Weasleys, too?" Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, a picture of anguish. "I just want to be friends with _everybody_. Ron sat with me when no one knew who I was. Hermione _lied_ for me when we defeated the troll. That was a huge deal. She doesn't ever want to lie to professors! I can't just abandon them, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa gave a little sigh and rested a hand on Harry's forehead, over that scar that throbbed so strangely. "What did I tell you to call me, Harry?"

"Narcissa." Harry didn't look up from his shoes now.

"And that remains true," Narcissa said soothingly, kneeling down next to him and stroking his hair. "You must remember, Harry. I do not know everything until you tell it to me. I don't know what you're feeling."

"I'm—not used to telling people what I think."

 _No, he would not be._ Narcissa should have anticipated that, truly. She only nodded as if it didn't matter, and turned to Draco. "We will continue this discussion at home. _Home,_ Draco," she added, when he opened his mouth.

"We got all the books we needed anyway," Draco muttered in a sulky way. "I just hope it's a rumor and not true that that git Lockhart won't be teaching at Hogwarts."

"Language, Draco." But Narcissa drew her son to talk of what had happened in the bookshop on the way home, and thought long of it after they had reached Malfoy Manor and she had had a small talk with Harry in which she promised that no one would force him to give up his friends.

She spent time contemplating Harry, and time, too, contemplating the small black book that Lucius had given her.

* * *

 _My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?_

The elegantly penned words formed in the book on their own. Narcissa watched them, and nodded. She had been wise not to write in the book—the diary, it seemed it was—with her own hands. Instead, she had captured a Muggle, placed him under the Imperius, and directed him to write every word she said.

"My name is Melliflua Malfoy." If her guesses about the spirit bound inside the book were true, then it would have no current knowledge of events, and therefore no way of knowing that Narcissa was using the name of Lucius's great-grandmother rather than speaking in her own person. And since the Malfoys, like other pureblood lines, frequently repeated names in their family, any knowledge of the previous Melliflua could be easily excused. "Were you a Hogwarts student?"

 _Yes. Are you?_

"Oh, yes! It's so exciting to be here! And to have a book that talks back! But…wait. I have to ask. You're not a _Mudblood_ , are you?"

The words this time took a little longer to appear. Narcissa wondered if that was because the book was starting to realize that it had "fallen" into the hands of someone who might be eager to continue the Dark Lord's work. _No, of course not. I was a Slytherin, and as you well know, no one is accepted into our noble House without being able to claim purity of blood._

Narcissa had to admit that was cleverly worded. _Claim,_ indeed. She had sometimes wondered about the Dark Lord's ancestry, but this was the first solid clue she'd had that it might not be impeccable.

"You're right, of course, Tom. It's just that I didn't recognize your last name."

 _My father disagreed with his family, and changed his last name to spite them. He preferred to be the head of a new line rather than continue the one he felt had disgraced him._

"That's all right, then, Tom. We can talk, right? I mean, you must know _lots_ about Hogwarts. The diary is so old! It seems that you lived a long time ago. So you can tell me all the secret passages and the best way to cheat on exams without being caught, can't you?"

 _That's right, Melliflua. I can see that we will become great friends._

Narcissa laughed behind her hand.

* * *

 _I do not understand why I do not feel your magic when I converse with you._

Narcissa leaned over to read the words in the diary, then smiled and went back to reading the letter from Draco. The content made her brow cloud as she read it, though. He was having trouble in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he blamed entirely on Gilderoy Lockhart giving them quizzes on books that were too boring to read.

Something would have to be done about Lockhart.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I'm undergoing training sessions every day, you see. That means I don't have much magic left when it comes time to write to you. I'm just so exhausted all the time. I'll try to do better, I promise!"

 _What kind of special training sessions?_

"Oh, they're with the Headmaster. Dumbledore. Everyone says that he's barmy, but he is a great and powerful wizard, you know! And that means he has a lot to teach me. So he's giving me those lessons every evening, and they're mostly dueling and running around and defensive magic. Sometimes I wonder that I don't fall asleep the minute I get back into bed!"

This time, Riddle's response took a long moment to show up. Narcissa nodded. It seemed those rumors about Dumbledore being the one wizard the Dark Lord had ever feared were true.

 _Why would the Headmaster need to give you special training sessions?_

"It's because I defeated a Dark Lord when I was a baby. It's the strangest thing. Everyone calls me the 'Girl-Who-Lived' because he tried to use the Killing Curse on me and it rebounded, somehow. It made his body disintegrate. But Dumbledore believes he'll return someday, so I have to get ready for that day! He'll want to kill me, of course."

 _And what do_ you _believe, Melliflua?_ Riddle's line under the fourth word almost went through the page. _Do you believe that the Dark Lord is dead?_

"No, I suppose I don't. Sometimes I have strange prophetic dreams about me fighting him. And sometimes my scar hurts. But on the other hand, it's hard to say exactly when he'll come back, so I don't know exactly when I'll be prepared. For all I know, it could be tomorrow, and then I wouldn't be _ready_! It's so exhausting, sometimes."

Riddle was quick with sympathy, and then he added, as if casually, _What was the name of this Dark Lord you defeated, Melliflua?_

"Lord Voldemort. That's the right spelling, isn't it? I don't see it spelled often because everyone is so afraid of saying his name. Did you know him, Tom?"

 _I did. Let me see what I can remember…_

Narcissa turned her attention from the diary as yet another owl came fluttering in, with yet another letter from Draco clutched in its claws. Narcissa frowned as she took it. It was unlike Draco to send a letter when she hadn't had time to respond to his first one yet. For all he knew, circumstances could have changed and Narcissa would have found a way to defuse whatever problem he was writing about.

But this second letter began with, _Harry is ignoring me again._

Narcissa had the Muggle write a hasty farewell, as if someone was coming into "Melliflua's" room to check on her, and rose. When that situation had happened last year, it had led to Harry nearly dying because he had gone up against the Dark Lord's possessed host.

It was _not_ going to happen again. Harry was _not_ going to break her son's heart.

* * *

"Well, I must say it's a bit irregular, Mrs. Malfoy, but since you're the boy's guardian, of course you can see him in private."

Narcissa smiled at McGonagall and inclined her head as Harry came through the office door. "Thank you, Headmistress." She did find McGonagall easier to deal with in all things than Dumbledore. She thought it might be because McGonagall was a woman, and women were inherently more sensible.

More willing to recognize the value of assassin lessons and apply them, for example.

Harry looked up at her warily as he entered, and then frowned as he saw the way McGonagall was getting up to leave. "Headmistress?"

"Mrs. Malfoy came to check on you, Harry. She's a bit worried by some of the letters your adopted brother—"

 _I must remember to clarify to Draco that I do_ not _think of them as brothers._

"—was sending home. So you can have a chat, and I'll make sure you aren't disturbed." McGonagall squeezed Harry's shoulder and smiled down at him, then stepped through the door and shut it behind her.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa sighed and knelt down in front of Harry. "Harry. What did I tell you?"

"That you're Narcissa."

"Then please, address me that way." Narcissa squeezed his hands comfortingly and sat back up in the chair again. "Now, Draco says that you've been ignoring him. Can you tell me why?"

"I need—I did something stupid. It made some of my friends think that I'm Slytherin, or maybe Dark, or maybe evil. So they told me that I need to ignore Draco to prove that I'm not." Harry folded his arms and nudged the leg of the second chair in front of the Headmistress's desk with his trainer.

"Tell me what this mistake was." Narcissa was beginning to wonder about the value of preserving Harry's friends. If they interfered on such a regular basis with the bond between Harry and Draco…

"They found out I can talk to snakes. We were mock-dueling in the common room, and Seamus conjured a snake, and I thought I was just telling it to stop attacking me, but it turns out I was talking _Parseltongue_ to it. Only Dark wizards can speak Parseltongue. Like Salazar Slytherin."

Narcissa closed her eyes for a moment. Her mind was full of stories she had read to Draco when he was a child, stories about the achievements of Salazar Slytherin and some Dark Lords throughout history. The only thing Draco had envied them for, besides their more powerful curses, was Parseltongue.

Narcissa had always mourned that she could not give him a hereditary gift. But a friend who could speak Parseltongue was the next best thing.

And Narcissa was _not_ going to have Gryffindors making Harry feel ashamed, or worthless, or shutting down his friendship with Draco over it.

"You shouldn't feel that way," she said quietly, opening her eyes. "Do you know why Salazar Slytherin was so famous for it?"

"Because he founded Slytherin, and their symbol is a snake?"

"No, Harry. Because it is a sign of _power._ Think how much magic it must take to communicate with snakes, which can normally never speak to humans. To reach across time and space and connect with another _mind._ Why would that ever be evil, Harry?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, his eyes turning inwards. Narcissa smoothed his shoulder. She was thinking what she should do about the situation. Gryffindors were easy enough to kill, but…

Children were not a challenge of her abilities. And their deaths would distress Harry, which would probably make him more likely to ignore Draco in his grief. Even the Headmaster's death had led to a few days of Harry being quiet and withdrawn.

She would think of something else.

"So—you think it would be all right if I went back and told them I don't feel evil? And if I talked to Draco again? I do miss him. I was just trying to prove that I was a real Gryffindor."

"If anyone ever doubts you, only tell them about the foolish risks you took with your life last year. I assure you that you will qualify for Gryffindor House."

Harry grinned at her as if that was a great compliment instead of deadly truth, and said, "Thanks, Mrs—I mean, Narcissa! And—" His chin firmed. "One thing the Sorting Hat talks about is how all the Houses belong together in Hogwarts. And Headmistress McGonagall said something about that at the Feast this year, too. So it could be seen as inter-House unity if I tried to spend time with my Slytherin friends. Right?"

Narcissa kissed his forehead. "I knew you would be clever enough to see the appeal. Go back and talk to them, Harry. I promise you will have their friendship again." _If necessary, I can threaten them into it. That would be enough of a challenge for me, how to be threatening enough without simply making them terrified of Harry._

Harry gave her a quick dash of a hug, and bounced towards the door, looking much lighter than what he'd entered. Narcissa spoke before he could leave. "Draco said that Professor Lockhart is giving him a hard time in class, Harry. Is the same thing happening for you?"

Harry turned around and grimaced. "Well, it's more that he tries to get photographs with me _outside_ class. And teases me about selling them. And talks to me like he thinks I _want_ to be famous. He told me that we would end up on the front page of the _Prophet_ together, but only because he was there. He's annoying."

Narcissa nodded slowly. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Harry. You realize that you can write to me as Draco does? We would be pleased to receive a letter from you."

"Oh! Okay, yeah. I just never had anyone to write—before."

Narcissa waved to him as he departed, and took the moment before McGonagall returned to sit back and think.

It was not enough to kill Lockhart. He had humiliated one of her boys.

For that, he would suffer before he died.


	3. Narcissa Secretive Part Two

Thank you for all the reviews! This is the second and last part of the _Chamber of Secrets_ AU.

 _I don't think it's very nice of you to leave me without talking to me for so long, Melliflua._

"I'm so sorry, Tom!" Narcissa had the Muggle dictate, while she settled back in her chair in the library and considered the best way to observe Lockhart. "I just had to listen to a big lecture today about how I'm not fulfilling my responsibilities, and so all my professors had me doing extra dueling lessons and copying lines. It was _awful_."

 _What duties do they think you're neglecting?_

"Well, see, there are some people who think I'm going to save the world, and then there are the people who think I'll save the world _and_ go on to be Minister for Magic afterwards. They just want me to do _everything._ " Not that she could tell when she had the Muggle under the Imperius Curse, but Narcissa thought he might enjoy underlining the individual words. "So now I have to add politics, and foreign languages, and all this history of the Wizengamot to my studies. It's _awful_."

The diary wrote back at once, a soft sliding of words that Narcissa could almost imagine accompanying Parseltongue. _Do you think it would be less awful if I helped you?_

"Oh, but how could you help me, Tom? I like you a lot, but you're just a book."

Narcissa smiled as the book's Dark aura, which she had cast a spell to see, changed and shifted like a flag blown by the wind. Yes, that would incense the Dark Lord. _I know a lot of ways to study, Melliflua. And I could show you ways to gain influence of your own, so that you could push back against the people who want you to do everything._

"Really? That would be great!"

 _Yes. I can even show you where the legendary Chamber of Secrets is, so that you could gain prestige as the first one to discover it in fifty years._

Narcissa did have to tilt her head back and sigh a little. _This_ was the young version of the man her husband had followed for so long? She sincerely hoped that no child of _hers_ would fall for a manipulation that transparent.

"Oh, but I don't know, Tom. I mean, there's lots of people who would think I was evil if I found the Chamber! They would say I _have_ to be evil. And a hateful Slytherin."

 _Let them think what they will. The people who matter will know your value._

"Melliflua" went on holding back, and only let Tom "persuade" her right before she said that she had to go to class. But Riddle seemed content as Narcissa had the Muggle shut the book and march back to his rightful place in the cellars. The Malfoy Manor cellars were quite well-fitted to serve as dungeons, since they'd only been converted from that purpose into wine storage when Abraxas was alive.

Narcissa had devised a plan to her satisfaction. It would not only let her observe Lockhart and plan on how to make up for him humiliating her boys, but let her begin the intimidation tactics that would make Harry's Gryffindor friends shut up.

* * *

Narcissa adjusted the form-fitting black robes and sighed a little. They would have to _do_. In truth, she hated pandering to expectations as much as this. She should be wearing unobtrusive grey robes slit a little up the side to allow her to move and kick and blend with shadows better.

But black was what the stereotypical assassin witch wore, so she would have to as well.

She slid rapidly down the rope that she had looped around one of the parapets of Gryffindor Tower. In seconds, she was hovering outside the windows that led into the second-year boys' bedroom. She spent a moment making sure that her hair was still bound back in the knot that was utterly unlike any style she wore, but which also fit the stereotype she was trying to project. Her hair had been Charmed white and centered with a pair of knives.

When she was sure she was ready, Narcissa drew back one foot—clad in a thigh-high black boot—and kicked the window in.

There were yelps and screams of shock as she swirled through the glass and landed in a crouch between two beds. Weasley threw back the curtains on one, and a trembling boy Narcissa thought was Longbottom the other.

They stared at her with their mouths open. Meanwhile, Harry and two other boys, one sandy-haired, one dark-skinned, had tumbled out of their own beds. They stared at her, too.

"I have come to warn you," said Narcissa, her voice low and biting. She held up the "ebony" wand she was using—like her hair, it was hers under a charm—and stalked slowly forwards, then whirled and almost stabbed her wand into Weasley's throat. He squeaked. "Do you know who I was? _Do you_?" she hissed, long before Weasley could have got his breath back to answer.

Weasley stared at her and produced a very small sound that might have been "no."

"I was a Slytherin who dared to have friends in other Houses," Narcissa said to him. From the corner of her eye, she watched the other boys, but none of them was moving to stop her. She noted with satisfaction that the others were also too petrified to notice the gape of recognition on Harry's face. "I had Gryffindors as friends. Ravenclaws. Hufflepuffs. But the Gryffindors were the ones who _dared_ to insist that I prove I was their 'real' friend. And that meant performing pranks on my housemates, insulting the Hufflepuffs, and tricking the Ravenclaws into failing their exams." Narcissa lowered her voice. "And do you know what happened _next_?"

Weasley squeaked.

"I was _cursed_!" Narcissa whirled away from him and drew the knives from her hair. Thank Merlin; they'd been nearly scratching at her scalp, even with the spell she'd performed to increase her hair thickness so that wouldn't happen. She flourished the blades at the other boys, who tripped. Longbottom looked as if he was going to soil himself. "By the Ravenclaws that I'd shamed and the Slytherins I'd spurned. They put a curse on me to _always_ sneak around in the dark and stab people in the _back_." She demonstrated with the knives on the edge of Weasley's mattress.

Longbottom's lip would probably never be the same again, the way he was chewing on it. Narcissa pulled back the knives and stared at them.

"But the worst part of the curse," Narcissa whispered, never looking up from her knives and starting to sway back and forth a little as though a breeze was pushing her, "is not being able to have _friends_ anymore. I can never do that. I'm so _alone_." She lifted her head and stared at all of them, her eyes desolate. "So I came to warn you. Don't demand that any friends you have who associate with other Houses _prove_ themselves to you. Because some of those Slytherins and Ravenclaws who cursed me have children here now. They might use the same curse on _you_."

She bent down and whispered, although making it sure that it was loud enough that all of them could hear, "My soul is like the winter wind. I'm always cold inside. Never warm. I can't take any joy in anything except knifework. And that's a fleeting joy, little ones. So fleeting." She nodded at all of them, then stifled a sob in her throat, and jumped out the window.

By the time the first of them dared to peer over the jagged edges of broken glass, Narcissa had already pulled herself up to the stones above the window's arch. And only Harry looked up.

His stare was full of blinding, worshipful awe.

Narcissa winked at him, and then swung silently away over the top of the castle to find a good vantage point on Lockhart's rooms.

* * *

"Now, children, let me tell you about the time that _I_ discovered the recipe for a potion that sleeks down your hair and brightens your teeth all at once…"

Narcissa hung in a net of spidersilk and a Disillusionment Charm from the ceiling of Lockhart's classroom, and shook her head a little. She thought she had heard enough. She had recognized more than one of Lockhart's "achievements" as ones actually created or performed by other wizards, some of them her colleagues. In fact, one of her own kills had been in there, but since it hadn't been one that she could come forwards to claim credit for, Lockhart had simply picked it up and woven it into the demonstrably false fabric of his own books.

And he seemed to thrive on the attention.

 _Well, he will have a new kind of attention to thrive on,_ Narcissa thought, and then swung in the net of spidersilk back to the top of the ceiling and carefully crawled hand-over-hand to the opening of the secret tunnel that she had discovered during her second year at Hogwarts. She could only access it hanging upside-down like this, and so she was sure, as she slid into it, that it would be empty.

It was, but she noticed something she never had before. There was a scrap of what looked like dry skin along the side of the tunnel. Narcissa picked it up and looked it over, eyes narrowing when she made out a faint pattern of scales on it.

 _So. There was a snake that crawled through tunnels and pipes like this once._

Possibly the monster from the Chamber of Secrets, which must be a snake to be controlled by a Parselmouth. Narcissa thoughtfully tucked the scale away. Her mind was bubbling with plans to get revenge on Lockhart and neutralize the diary. She would let them bubble for a while. Lockhart was not going to get _more_ humiliating in the next day or so, and this plan would need time to form.

* * *

" _Mother_."

Narcissa sprinted away from the dinner table the minute she heard Draco's distressed wail. Kneeling down in front of the fireplace, she saw how mussed his hair was and drew in her breath. "Darling, what happened?"

For a moment, she wondered if something might have gone wrong with her Gryffindor intimidation plot, and Harry's friends had persuaded him to ignore Draco again. But Draco said, "I _don't remember_ my detention with Lockhart! He said that I was going to help him answer his post from his fans, I remember that much, but—I should remember funny lines or the ink he had me use or _something_! But I don't!"

Narcissa leaned slowly back. _So. Memory Charms were how he was able to claim credit from those who would have wanted it._ "Draco. Listen to me carefully. Do what you can not to get detention. I need three days."

"Three days for what?" Draco mopped at his face with his sleeve, increasing her alarm. He _never_ forgot himself, or forgot the charm that would conjure a handkerchief.

"For me to set up the plan that will ensure we get revenge on him."

Draco went silent and stared at her. Then he said, "You're right. You always do take care of it."

Narcissa smiled at him. "I always do. Now, stay away from Lockhart. Take a potion that will make you sick to your stomach if you have to, to be able to stay in the hospital wing and avoid his classes. But _do not let on to him that you know._ All right?"

"All right, Mum." Draco started to wipe his face with his sleeve again, but then blushed and dropped his head. "Right. I'll get a handkerchief as soon as possible."

"Good. I love you." Narcissa hesitated, then added, "Tell Harry to stay away from the man and his classes as well."

"Yes, Mum."

"Good boy." Narcissa backed away from the fire as it flared shut and walked back towards the dining table. She shouldn't have waited. The man _could_ cause harm in two days. Of course, Draco couldn't have had anything _too_ important taken from him—most likely he had discovered some embarrassing secret—but that didn't matter. She was going to make him pay as much as possible.

"Is Draco all right?"

Sometimes Lucius could be a concerned parent, although he would never be as much so as she was. Narcissa nodded to him and sat down in front of her plate. "Yes. He's had a bit of a shock. Use of a Memory Charm."

"I should get—"

Narcissa turned her head and met his eyes. Lucius shrank back into the chair. "What would you do, Lucius?" Narcissa asked softly. "Start an investigation by the Board of Governors? That would take far too long, and you know it."

Lucius looked down. "Too long for you."

It wasn't often that he showed even that much defiance. Narcissa leaned back and considered him for a while, and then said, "I feel in the need of some entertainment in bed tonight. You will provide it."

Lucius looked as if he didn't know whether to be glad or not, especially when Narcissa went to get the manacles.

* * *

"And the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in the girls' bathroom on the second floor? _Really_ , Tom?"

 _Yes. I doubt it was originally there, of course. Salazar Slytherin probably had it concealed somewhere that was remodeled._

"Yes, you're right. Oh, you're so clever, Tom! I can't wait to go there and open it and see the Chamber!"

Narcissa silently directed the Muggle to step back from the diary. Then she glanced at the potion she was brewing, and nodded. The green, acidic color it had turned showed it had reached the proper stage.

She knew that no regular method could likely destroy the diary, so she hadn't tried. It would only infuriate Riddle and ruin the guise of her "Melliflua Malfoy" persona. But she _was_ willing to bet that the contents could be transformed. This powerful potion would work a Transfiguration on any physical object for at least an hour. And she could easily Apparate to Hogwarts and make it to Gilderoy Lockhart's private quarters in an hour.

 _Melliflua?_

Narcissa had the Muggle pick up Riddle's diary and drop it daintily into the potion.

The diary at once began to thrash, and a loud hissing, rather like a snake's, emanated from the cauldron. Narcissa arched an eyebrow. Well, now she was glad that she had taken as many precautions as she had.

But it was for naught. The potion bubbled some more, steamed some more, and then yielded up its contents. The diary had been forcibly transformed into a bowl of raspberry ice cream.

Narcissa delicately tipped the contents of the second brewing cauldron into the ice cream—the potion that would act like a liquid version of the Imperius Curse—and slipped out and to the Apparition point.

* * *

Under the glamor of an innocent young witch, Narcissa knocked on Lockhart's door. He opened it and beamed at her. Narcissa lowered her eyes shyly and held out the bowl of ice cream.

"I can't stay long, sir," she whispered. "My name is Nari Fortescue, and—I just wanted to give you this ice cream. I made it myself. It's the first ice cream that my grandfather's let me make. I—I'm such a _huge_ fan of your work."

"My dear, my dear, no need to stand talking in the corridor! Come in, come in."

"No, please, I can't." Narcissa worked her way backwards, trembling. "Oh, Grandfather would be so angry if he knew! Just—please eat it, sir, and think of me." She bolted around the corner, and cast the charm that would float a mirror up to her eye and allow her to look back around the corner and see what happened next.

Lockhart stood blinking at the ice cream in his hands for a few seconds, then smiled indulgently. Narcissa thought she heard him mutter something about "young love" before he dipped the spoon Narcissa had provided into the dish and lifted it to his mouth.

 _Yes, eat it all._

But Lockhart needed no urging. Once he had eaten the first mouthful, the liquid Imperius potion had a chance to work, and he began to swallow more and more, compelled to finish it until it was gone. Then he turned the bowl upside-down and licked it.

Narcissa cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and gave the mental command; the potion he'd drunk was linked to her as the brewer. _Walk directly to the Great Hall._ She had timed her visit well, and dinner was still going on, although Lockhart had left early.

Lockhart turned and hurried. His face was oddly smooth and peaceful, although now and then Narcissa saw a dark flicker behind his eyes. The diary was probably attempting to transform back into itself and fight its way out, or at least assert control of Lockhart.

Unfortunately for the diary, it was still raspberry ice cream, and would be for at least forty more minutes.

Narcissa had Lockhart fling open the doors of the Great Hall dramatically, because he _would_ , and the less out-of-character he seemed before his untimely death, the less likely someone else would determine what was going on. "I have an _announcement_ to make!" he caroled out to the students and professors still at the tables.

Narcissa saw Draco staring directly at the professor, his hands cupped protectively over a letter he'd been writing on the table. From his seat on the Gryffindor benches, Harry was also gaping, but he immediately looked over Lockhart's shoulder, as if searching for her.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. _Isn't that interesting._

"I _made up_ most of what I put in my books!" Lockhart announced, and shed his robes. At the same time, he held up the long shirt he wore underneath, so everyone could see that his pants were embroidered with his own grinning face, including a particularly large grin right in the middle of his groin. "I didn't really do all those things! The parts I didn't make up, I stole from other people. With Memory Charms. I made them forget what they really did, and I took the credit." He nodded seriously. "I feel _just terrible_ about it, and I wanted to confess before I lost my courage."

He didn't seem to notice the weeping of a small group of Gryffindor girls. He dropped his shirt back down over his pants and stood up. "Now I'm going to make up for it! I know where the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets is, and I'm going to face and battle the monster inside. Don't try to dissuade me! I know how terrible my crimes are, and this is the only way I can satisfy my guilty conscience." He sobbed and pressed his hand over his heart. "If I don't make it, then remember me for my smile. At least that was my own."

He turned, the last of Narcissa's mentally-dictated words fading from his mouth and mind, and strode towards the second-floor girls' bathroom. For a moment, everyone in the Great Hall seemed frozen. Then a babble of voices and laughter started. Well, and sobs from the girls.

" _Children_!" Headmistress McGonagall stood up, Severus beside her, and cast charms that stretched glittering barriers across the doors of the Great Hall. "No, you will _not_ be following Professor Lockhart. If he is actually going to open the Chamber of Secrets, it will be extremely dangerous." McGonagall's face was pale. Narcissa smiled. She'd known she could count on the woman to react that way. "You will stay here, and a few of the professors and myself will accompany—Professor Lockhart—" Her voice faltered on the title.

 _Oh, no, that won't do at all._ Narcissa turned and sprinted after Lockhart.

She found him kneeling on the floor in the girls' bathroom. A ghost was peering fretfully out of the toilet while he struggled with himself, sometimes hissing.

Narcissa strengthened the pull of her will and her command. All she had to do was think of Draco and Harry, and she was more than strong enough to overcome Lockhart's mental flailing. _Open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Draw your wand and blast the sink with the snake open if you have to._

As she had predicted, because he had the diary's memories inside him, Lockhart knew which tap would open the Chamber even if the diary wouldn't lend him the Parseltongue to open it. He surged to his feet and whipped out his wand. A few well-placed Blasting Curses, and there was a dark, gaping passage where a sink had been. Lockhart ran forwards and jumped into it.

Narcissa rappelled down, with rather more grace. She nodded to the bones and scraps of skin that she had to pick her way past as she walked to the Chamber. This wasn't the nastiest graveyard she had ever walked. In fact, it looked as if the basilisk probably did professional work.

Lockhart was raging outside the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, sometimes beating the door with his fists and sometimes beating his own head. Narcissa eyed him and shook her head. He was considerably less impressive than the emerald-eyed snakes on the door of the Chamber, Narcissa thought.

Now came the trickiest part, because she had to exert her will over the diary as well as Lockhart. _Hiss the words to open the Chamber. Go in and shut the door behind you. Hiss the words to open the Chamber. Go in and shut the door behind you…_

It probably helped that, at the moment, Tom Riddle was partially dissolved in stomach juices. Lockhart flung his head back and uttered a long hiss. The doors to the Chamber shuddered and slid aside, the green jewels in the eyes of the serpents flaring. Lockhart stumbled inside and turned and said something else. The doors slammed shut.

Narcissa lingered a few moments only. She would have to leave when the professors showed up, she knew, but she rather hoped—

There was a choked-off scream a moment later, and a loud, indignant hissing, too loud to come from a human throat.

Narcissa smiled and turned away, content. Her boys were avenged, Lockhart's humiliation would be remembered and his posthumous reputation ruined, and the diary was either trapped in the Chamber forever or, quite possibly, a pile of poisoned half-digested ice cream in Lockhart's stomach, soon to be a poisoned pile of giant serpent waste. Basilisk venom might have almost any effect on it.

She did remind herself to tell Harry not to come down here. He was a Parselmouth, and might think it a grand adventure. Narcissa would have to explain that it was only a grand adventure until he thought about having to stay in his room all summer.

* * *

"I want to know how you do it."

Narcissa set aside the _Prophet_ she'd been lingering over for the headline—yet another revelation of a Lockhart book written under false pretenses—and gave Harry her full attention. They were the only two in the dining room, since Draco hadn't yet come down and Lucius was spending some quality time with the manacles. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"You keep _making things happen_." Harry stared at her over his last spoonful of porridge. Narcissa arched her eyebrow, and he ate it, then continued, "I want to know how."

Narcissa considered him thoughtfully. She had dreamed before of finding a protégé to follow in her footsteps, but had assumed it would come about when Draco was grown. If _he_ wanted to learn the discipline, he could, but so far Draco hadn't shown any interest.

Now here was Harry, who hadn't known there was discipline to learn.

"Very well," Narcissa said. "I can give you some preliminary lessons. But that's not the same as being able to do what I do. _I've_ had years of training."

"That's okay. I just want to make a difference. I want to—to make sure that no one else can ever control me again. The _Prophet_ was writing some stories about me and Lockhart and how much I must have wanted attention when he was making me pose in photos with him. And my friends were trying to make me choose between them and Draco. I don't want that to ever happen again."

Harry's eyes were so bright with determination. Narcissa felt her eyebrows creeping up her forehead even as she smiled. "I look forward to teaching you, Harry."


	4. Narcissa Protective

The AU of third year for the Narcissa series! This one is going to be a three-parter, most likely.

 **Narcissa Protective**

"Like this, Harry." Narcissa patiently stretched her foot out and flexed it, studying Harry's technique. She shook her head a second later. "No, that won't work. That looks as if you're trying to snap your foot in half, not make it more flexible."

Harry looked at her. "I can't see the difference between what you're doing and what I'm doing."

"Try again." Narcissa patiently moved her foot in the right direction again. She had never had a student in the discipline before, and it was a learning experience for her as well as Harry. "See the way that you're extending your toes too far? You need to make sure that you're properly limber, not that you're limping around on a foot you've stretched as if it was made of taffy."

"Oh. _Oh_!" Harry grinned at her and suddenly moved his foot the right way. "Yeah, I understand. This is brilliant!"

Narcissa smiled at him and stood up, spending a moment drying off her hair with a towel. She studied Harry's hair critically as she did so. While he kept it short, he would not have the same problems that some assassins did, with it being so thick it slowed them down or caught on things, or so long that it gave enemies a handhold in battle. Narcissa allowed her hair to remain as delicately flowing and swirling as she did now only because she was mostly retired.

"You're such a good teacher." Harry had climbed to his feet, but was wobbling like a new Abraxan foal while he gazed at her with worshipful eyes. "So much better than Snape."

Narcissa blinked. "I had thought that Professor Snape was a genius at Potions." That was mostly what Draco talked about, when he talked about professors at all.

Harry paused, and a blank mask dropped over his face. "I'm sure he must be."

"I'm the one who taught you that mask, Harry," Narcissa reminded him calmly as she moved up beside him and casually blocked the way out of the room. In a few years he would know six different ways to get around her and twelve ways to disable her while he did it, but a few years was not now. "Tell me what you mean."

"He just—he's a _git_."

"Informative."

Harry sighed. "He hates me because I'm a Gryffindor and I'm James Potter's son. He makes fun of Neville all the time because he can't brew the way Snape wants him to. But Snape never _says_ how he wants us to brew! He just flings a potion at us and expects us to get it the first time! Maybe that's okay if you've already had special tutoring, but I haven't and Neville hasn't."

Narcissa considered the matter as she led Harry to the dining room, where the house-elves had prepared cool drinks and small amounts of bland food for them. In truth, she didn't care that much about Longbottom. He wasn't important at all to Draco, and he wasn't one of Harry's close friends. She had intimidated him without a thought a few months ago so that he would stop asking Harry whether he was a real Gryffindor.

But Severus harming one of _her_ boys was a different matter.

"You know that the school is unlikely to hire another Potions professor," she said, when she had drunk exactly two-thirds of her glass.

Harry sighed and stared at his soup, moving his spoon around in it. "Yeah, I know. Look at the trouble they've had keeping a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I just have to put up with him, I suppose."

Narcissa reached out and put her hand on his. "Never have that mindset. It is unworthy of a young man who can accomplish whatever he puts his mind to."

Harry looked up at her with wide eyes. "You want me to kill him?"

"You are not skilled enough," Narcissa said absently. "And he _is_ a good Head of House to his Slytherins. No, I am going to make sure that he keeps his mind on his work instead of tormenting you from now on. I know a weakness that I can use against him."

"How can you keep him alive and still get him to stop torturing me?" Harry shook his head so hard that his hair flopped about his face. "I think it's his favorite pastime."

Narcissa opened her mouth to answer, but Draco called, "Harry!" from the stairs then, and Draco's wishes took precedence. Narcissa was pleased to see that was the case for Harry as well as for herself; Harry turned around with a beaming smile and scrambled out of his chair, conversation forgotten.

Perhaps best not to share this weakness with Harry, in any case. He might have found the methods she intended to use…distasteful.

* * *

"You know that Sirius Black is Harry's godfather."

Narcissa glanced up. She had been revising her plan in her mind, making sure there were no other pieces she needed to add to it. She thought it best to intimidate Severus before the new school year began. "I know. Does he seem upset about it?"

"He seemed upset no one told him. I would have, but I honestly _did_ think he knew," said Lucius rapidly, looking away from her.

"I don't blame you for not telling him, Lucius. I didn't think of it, either." Narcissa stretched thoughtfully. Well, she would be going along to the school this year to keep an eye on the boys after all. But she would act on Severus first. "Do you mind terribly taking Draco and Harry to Diagon Alley alone? I have something I need to do."

"Something I should know about?"

Narcissa smiled at him. That was enough to tell Lucius the answer. He went pink and buried himself behind his newspaper.

Narcissa did end up looking at the memories in the Pensieve one more time before she left, just to make _absolutely_ sure she could imitate the voice the right way. Lucius had more memories of the particular person she needed to imitate than she did, and so did a few people she'd contacted for favors.

The spells themselves were child's play to wrap around herself, and so was the Apparition. Now she only needed to wait until she could catch Severus alone.

* * *

"Seeeeeeverus…"

"Who's that?" Severus demanded, and spun around, dropping his teacup and whipping out his wand in the same motion.

 _Still sloppy technique,_ Narcissa thought dispassionately as she made sure the glamour was wrapped around her face, along with her voice, and that the levitation token around her throat was functioning properly. She had to have her feet looking as if she was floating at least a few meters off the floor. _He could step back, cut his foot on the teacup's shards, and get distracted.  
_  
"You know very well who 'that' is, Severus," Narcissa whispered in her disguised voice. "The person you've tried so hard to forget. The person you _can't_ forget. I thought you would admit to _remembering_ me, at least."

Severus backed up a step, but his grip on his wand was still firm when he _did_ cut his foot on a shard of the teacup. Narcissa only watched as he hopped and cursed, and then she felt the moment was right and released the Disillusionment Charm that had shielded her.

Severus tripped, this time, and lay on the floor shivering under the weight of her gaze. Lily Potter's gaze, made misty and silvery by the spells Narcissa was using that let her appear as a ghost.

"Lily," Severus breathed.

"Summoned from the grave by your dishonor," Narcissa whispered. The hardest thing right now was to keep her voice under control, and not only because of the glamour. She and Lily Potter had cared about very, very different things. "How _could_ you treat my son the way you do?"

Severus fought his way to his knees and shook his head. "You don't understand, Lily! He's exactly like Potter, _exactly_! He wants to get in trouble all the time, and he laughs at Slytherins, and he plays pranks—"

"Tell me what pranks he's played." Narcissa was certain she would have heard if Harry was a big prank-player. One of the boys wouldn't have been able to resist bragging about it.

"He's stolen from my stores—"

"I don't think you keep up proper wards if that's true, Severus."

"And he laughs at Slytherins! He revealed he was a Parselmouth last year and then used that to prank some Slytherins!"

"Did he, Severus? Or did he wait around the corner from where some Slytherin bullies were planning on ambushing a first-year Hufflepuff and hiss so loudly that they ran away?" Narcissa _knew_ how that one had played out; Harry had told her everything.

"There's no evidence they were going to bully—"

"Don't lie to me, Severus. I see _everything_ , now that I'm dead. The revenge in your heart. The way that you would have found some way to hate Harry, because he looks so much like his father." Narcissa softened her voice. "Except that he has my eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to be polite to him, for my eyes?" She knew about Severus's obsession with Lily Potter's eyes from Lucius's stories of the man ranting, drunk, about them in Death Eater meetings.

Severus looked as if he might run away or vomit. He _still_ didn't notice the blood dripping from the cut on his heel. It was so sloppy that Narcissa was reversing some of her former good opinion of him. "I didn't—I didn't—"

"There's so many things you haven't done that I could spend hours reciting them." Narcissa made her voice a little crisper. "But we're not going to do that. Instead, you're going to start treating my son better from now on, Severus. I know you have the ability to do that. I know you have a kinder heart than you pretend."

Actually, Narcissa had no idea if that was really true, if he was _this_ sloppy. People could afford to have compassion when they weren't clumsy enough to cut themselves on shards of porcelain.

But it was probably something Lily Potter would have believed, and more, something Severus would have _liked_ her to believe of him.

"I—I'll do what I can. But I'll still assign him detention if I catch him playing a prank."

 _After this summer, I will be very disappointed if Harry gets caught._ But Narcissa pursed her glamoured lips and nodded. "That's acceptable. But that's different from yelling at him when he's done nothing wrong and calling him names. You have no idea what his life was like before Hogwarts, Severus. He lived with my sister—"

"He _what_?"

Narcissa sighed and let her head hang. Apparently that was a sore point, and Severus had known Lily Potter's sister. Well, that was acceptable, and she could adapt her plans on a moment's notice. "Yes. Of course, it seems the one who placed him there was Dumbledore, and he's beyond even _my_ reach now. But it was horrible."

"Of course it was," Severus whispered, sounding stunned.

Narcissa turned her head as if she'd heard a distant call, and shook it. "I have to go, Severus. I can feel the place I've been tugging me back even now." She smiled at him. "Please try to be kinder to my son, and to yourself, if only for my memory's sake."

She turned and drifted "through" the wall, in fact a complicated movement of a prepared spell that released the glamours on her and cloaked her in the Disillusionment Charm again. She heard Severus cry out behind her, a choked sound of loss that made her shake her head a little in disapproval.

Severus was not an effective teacher if he was so caught up in those memories. She would have to keep a closer eye on him when she was in the school to protect Draco and Harry.

* * *

"Are you coming along in your Animagus form?" Harry was stretching properly this time, and he turned around in the next second and flung a knife at one of the targets on the far wall with such precision that Narcissa applauded.

"How did you know that I had an Animagus form?" Narcissa knew neither Lucius nor Draco would have tattled.

"It just seemed like you would." Harry turned around and beamed at her. "A practical skill and all."

Narcissa smiled. "Well, unfortunately, my Animagus form is one I can rarely use. It is neither small nor stealthy. I have used it only twice on missions, when I would otherwise have been trapped and a brief burst of power made my pursuers back off. It would be as useless at Hogwarts as it would everywhere else."

"Then _how_ are you going to be there?" Harry walked over to a bar on the wall and started scrambling up towards it, a look of wild determination on his face. "It doesn't sound like it's going to _work_."

Narcissa watched his form for a moment, decided it would do, and nodded. "One of the Hogwarts professors owes me a favor. I am going to join the staff as her apprentice—in a younger glamour, of course—and do some of the tedious work of marking essays and the like, while keeping a watch out for Black."

"I thought you would come along as the Defense professor, Mother." Draco lounged into the room and leaned against the wall. There was nothing casual, however, about the way that his eyes followed Harry's form as he performed chin-ups on the bar.

Narcissa turned her head away to hide a smile, and replied, "Unfortunately, I found the Headmistress had already hired someone for the position." Someone she would have to keep an eye on, as well. Honestly, Minerva McGonagall as Headmistress of Hogwarts had fewer advantages over Dumbledore than she had imagined possible.

"Who?" Draco didn't care that much about the answer, obviously, but at least he was subtle about his appreciation of Harry's sweaty, red face.

"A man named Remus Lupin," Narcissa answered smoothly. "Apparently, also one of Black's best friends—and the Potters'."

Harry went still for a moment. Then he went on picking up the towel to wipe his face. Narcissa smiled, with a pride she couldn't drain. "Really? And he never came to check on me or see what my life was like?"

"I can make no excuses for him," Narcissa admitted, and glanced up as she heard a faint clang from upstairs. Apparently Lucius had discovered the spell locking him into his bedroom. Honestly, he shouldn't have defended his actions in serving the Dark Lord last night. "However, I will say that he would not have been legally able to take care of you. He is a werewolf, and they are strictly regulated."

"A _werewolf?_ And he's going to be around _me_?" Draco's voice squeaked.

Narcissa turned around and eyed him sternly. "Draco, what have I always told you?"

Draco took a moment to grasp what she was asking before his head drooped, and he sighed. "Mother will take care of it."

"Yes. A werewolf teaching in the school is no different. You know I intend to be there this year to protect you both from Black. Why would it be any different when it comes to your werewolf Defense professor?"

Draco looked down and traced his boot over one of the cracks in the floor. "It wouldn't," he said finally, when the silence had gone on for some time.

Narcissa nodded and swooped over to kiss the top of his forehead. "It will be well, Draco," she said, when Draco looked up at her again. "I will _make_ it be well."

Draco finally nodded and shuffled out of the room, with one last glance at Harry. "Lunch is in half an hour," he said, probably because he didn't want Harry to spend all of his day in training sessions with Narcissa, the way he sometimes did.

"If werewolves can't adopt children," Harry asked when the door had shut and he'd mopped off the last of the sweat from around his eyes, "why can they be around them as professors at a school?"

"Legally? They cannot. But the Headmistress was reduced to a bare number of candidates, and selected this Lupin as the best of them. She doesn't intend to tell anyone about his status. He also attended the school as a student without anyone knowing of his status," she added, and watched Harry's eyes widen.

"That's—kind of irresponsible."

"It was. But it was the previous Headmaster's decision, and unfortunately McGonagall is continuing his absurd legacy in some ways."

Harry was thoughtfully silent as he finished drying the sweat under his clothes, this time with a charm. Narcissa was adamant that he should know both magical and physical ways of doing all the things she showed him. Finally he asked, "What professor are you intending to go in as an assistant to?"

Narcissa smiled as she opened the door of the training room. "You can figure it out, Harry. With your training? I would be ashamed if you could not, as fast as you are progressing."

Harry tilted his head. "Well, you already said she was female…and it can't be Professor McGonagall because she's really not teaching this term…"

Narcissa nodded. Apparently McGonagall's replacement as Transfiguration professor was competent, if not incredible. "From there? I'm sure that you can figure this out, Harry. Don't strain yourself."

Harry rolled his eyes and strode out of the room. Narcissa followed with a faint smile. She did wonder if he would figure it out before they went back to Hogwarts. He had enough clues at his disposal that he _should_ , but he was also young, and male. It remained to be seen whether he was more like Draco or more like Lucius.

* * *

"Hello, Aurora. I'm Flooing you to claim my favor."

"Narcissa _Malfoy_? I never owed—"

"I had brown hair and glasses at the time, and I killed that infestation of bats you let loose in the cave where you went to study a certain kind of white stone."

Aurora Sinistra's shoulders slumped. A second later, she nodded. "All right. What do you want?"

"A simple favor…"


	5. Narcissa Protective Part Two

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Two_

Narcissa walked lightly into the hospital wing, eyes fixed on Harry lying on the bed nearest the door. Draco stood next to him, his face pale. He looked up at her and his eyes closed briefly, even though Narcissa wore the brown hair and glasses of her disguise and the boring, dusty robes required of an apprentice in Astronomy.

 _I am glad that he still trusts me to make everything all right._ Narcissa hadn't been able to keep the Dementors away from the train. But she would make sure that they didn't bother her boys in the future.

"What happened?" she asked softly. "Mr. Malfoy? Did the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher drive them away?" That was what some of the rumors she had heard as she came up the stairs said.

While Draco described Harry's intense reaction to the Dementors, Narcissa studied his still face. He hadn't had an easy life, and that might be one of the reasons he had fainted.

No matter what the reason was, however, she would _end_ it.

"Excuse me, who are you?"

Narcissa glanced up. The amber-eyed man in the door of the hospital wing was probably Remus Lupin. She smiled and stood, holding out her hand. "I'm sorry, you wouldn't have had the chance to meet me yet, of course. My name is Lilith Smithson. I'm an apprentice in Astronomy to Professor Sinistra. I have a hope of teaching it someday."

The man's nostrils flared delicately as he shook her hand, but Narcissa hadn't met him before, so her scent would tell him nothing. And she was wearing glamours that would disperse her scent anyway. "Do you know Harry?"

 _Better than you, who has done nothing to claim the right to use his first name._ But Narcissa only smiled a little and said, "Oh, I was at Hogwarts in my first year when his parents were in their seventh. I admired them from afar, you know. The way one does. And when I realized that Harry Potter was in the hospital wing…"

"He's going to be fine. He'll wake up and eat some chocolate, and that will be enough." Lupin shouldered past her as he went to the bed. He was patting Harry's hand and saying, "Harry? I mean, Mr. Potter?"

Draco glanced up at her in swelling indignation. Narcissa patted his hand in turn to subdue him. Yes, Lupin was ridiculous, and it seemed that he didn't even intend to call Harry by his first name when he was awake.

But Narcissa was here to prevent danger to her boys, and right now, she didn't think Lupin was an immediate danger. The Dementors were obviously worse.

 _And Cousin Sirius._

 _That_ was a conundrum she hadn't yet solved.

* * *

Narcissa's eyes flicked open. She had felt one of the wards she had placed around the edges of the grounds triggered. It meant someone of Black blood was nearby and neatly captured, and since she didn't expect Regulus to come back to life or Bellatrix to fight her way out of Azkaban or Andromeda to show up apologizing any time soon…

She rolled smoothly out of bed and padded up the stairs just outside her door. Sinistra had seemed bewildered when Narcissa had wanted the quarters right at the top of the Astronomy Tower, even though it was the traditional place for apprentices to sleep, but she had obviously never looked over the grounds at night, only at the stars. From here, Narcissa could see _everything_.

Narcissa lifted a telescope to her eye. No one would consider it unusual for an Astronomy apprentice to have a telescope, of course. No one else would realize that she'd modified it to see her wards triggered instead of the stars, either, but that was their problem.

There. The bright white ground-star flared against the dark edge of the Forbidden Forest. It had been nearly a month since term started. Narcissa was a little surprised that Sirius hadn't tried to sneak into Hogwarts before this.

If his desire to kill Harry was sincere. Which she had to admit she doubted. Imprisoned Death Eaters, including her own dear sister, were mostly loyal fanatics who wouldn't have cared about timing or overwhelming odds. They would simply have busted in.

Of course, Sirius might have inherited more of her own discipline and intelligence than Bellatrix's madness. But running away to live with the Potters didn't argue it.

Narcissa charmed her clothes the dark grey that would slide in and out of shadows best, and then reached down and drew up one of the almost invisible ropes that hung down the side of the Tower. In seconds she was climbing down, sliding when she could, but always holding her heels clear of the stones. The last thing she wanted was for someone to wake up now to investigate suspicious scrapes or rustles.

Once she reached the grounds, it was a swift stroll to where Sirius thrashed in her ward. She did pause when she realized she had caught a large black dog, and not a human being at all. Then she smiled.

"It's nice to see that the Animagus form of _someone_ in the family was useful," she said, and unwound the glamours that covered her. They were anchored to a brooch on her cloak so that she could put them back on merely by twisting the brooch. "Hello, Cousin Sirius. It's interesting that you want to kill Harry, but I'm afraid I can't allow it."

The dog stared at her and snarled. Narcissa listened for a moment, but so far only the snarls filled the night, not the whispers she always associated with Dementor cloaks. She shook her head and ended one of the coils of the ward so that Sirius could sit comfortably on his haunches instead of dangling in the air by all four legs.

"On the other hand, your behavior is hardly typical of a Death Eater. So, do you want to change back and tell me all about it? Or do I have to force you out of your Animagus form?"

Sirius snarled at her again. Narcissa shook her head. "Perhaps you have succumbed to the Black madness after all. Twelve years in Azkaban might do that." She waved her wand and intoned the charm that would disrupt the Transfiguration Sirius had worked on himself, forcing him to return to human form.

Sirius yowled in indignation as he turned. Narcissa smiled. "Maybe you should have been a cat instead."

"It's freezing and I'm naked!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before sneaking into the school."

"What are you _doing_ here, Narcissa?"

"I'm here to protect my son. And Harry, since he's become a close friend of Draco's and one of my children."

Sirius stared at her, and then burst out laughing. Narcissa studied him in cool silence. It went on and on, and she nodded a little. Yes, Sirius was decidedly not as sane as he'd been before Azkaban.

"Merlin," Sirius finally said, when Narcissa went on watching him and not moving. "You're serious. No, wait, that's me," he said quickly, before Narcissa could say anything. "And even if Harry is your ward, you can't mean anything good for him."

"I do wonder why not."

"Be—because!" Sirius hiccoughed a little, and Narcissa wondered if he'd got drunk before he came to make this easier for him. "Because your husband is a Death Eater and you're a Death Eater's wife."

They were getting nowhere with this. Narcissa sighed. "I want to know what _you're_ doing here, Sirius. I want to know what you think you can do now, by bringing Harry down. Your master is years gone."

" _I'm not a Death Eater_!"

Narcissa winced a little at that screech, which meant Sirius had told not only her but most of the inhabitants of the Forbidden Forest, and said, "Oh, really? Even though you're cousin to a Death Eater's wife?"

Sirius's glare showed that he'd lost his sense of humor in Azkaban, too. He yanked his left sleeve up and showed his bare arm. Narcissa waved a hand. "Why don't you try answering my question, instead of making proclamations?"

"Peter Pettigrew is alive. He's the real traitor. He's here. I saw his picture in the paper. I'm going to kill him."

Narcissa turned her head. The Dementors were coming, as she knew from the gathering chill in the air around her shoulders. _Tiresome._ She didn't feel like interrupting her interrogation of Sirius to assuage their qualms about their ugliness.

She flicked her wand and touched the amulet around her wrist that she had spent the past month preparing. It worked by feeding off the light of the moon and stars. Sometimes, pretending to be an Astronomy apprentice was worth it after all. When the amulet responded with a white spark much like the one that had showed on the grounds when Sirius fell into her trap, she took it off and laid it on the ground.

"We'll have to see if that's true," she told Sirius, and cast a series of rapid spells that tightened the ward around him, trussing his arms and legs behind his back, and gagged his mouth. "We'll return to the school and have a talk, and in the morning you can point Pettigrew out to me."

Sirius thrashed and raged, but Narcissa didn't intend to listen. She turned and waited for the first Dementor to come within range of her trap.

Although she could feel there were probably a good fifty approaching through the Forest, only one came close to the amulet. It was pushing its cloak back with its filthy hands as it did so, and although it glanced at her, its attention was fastened on the man she held prisoner.

Luckily, the presence of the Dementor made Sirius slump in his bonds. Narcissa glanced at him. She could do without the drool, but one couldn't have everything.

"What are you waiting for?" Narcissa asked softly, looking back at the Dementor. She hoped the one who had made Harry faint was here. Or, if not, that word would get back to it soon, through whatever methods the Dementors used to communicate.

After long moments of hesitation, the lone Dementor in the front came towards Sirius. Its mouth was visible now, a sucking thing working in and out of the darkness.

It passed over her amulet.

In a second, silvery light erupted from the amulet and grabbed the Dementor and tugged it into a whirl of motion. Narcissa watched, smiling, as the lanky black form of the Dementor grew thinner and thinner, turning into a shadow that spun down into the amulet like water going down a drain.

She looked up to find the rest of them staring at her.

"It's a simple matter of trapping a Patronus and binding it to an amulet," she told the Dementors. "By now, your companion has been annihilated."

Very carefully, a few of them edged behind the nearest trees.

"It will happen again if you come near me," Narcissa told them softly. "Or if you come near Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy. I know that you can recognize individual humans." They couldn't negotiate with the Ministry or distinguish between Azkaban guards and prisoners otherwise. "Leave them alone."

A few more Dementors edged between the trees as Narcissa picked up the amulet and tucked it back into a pocket. Then she gathered Sirius and made him float behind her as she strode once more towards the Astronomy Tower.

The Dementors drifted carefully out of her way. Some of them were watching her back. Narcissa simply kept walking.

Like natural animals, they sensed fear. Narcissa would die in shame before they could suck out her soul if that was actually the case.

And she had no bad memories for them to feed on. She had never done anything that wasn't perfectly justified, or made a mistake that she hadn't made up for later.

* * *

"Have you decided that you want to talk yet?"

The black dog turned its head in the other direction and sulked.

Narcissa shrugged, slid a bowl of food through the low door of the cage she was keeping him in, and then left to attend the Wednesday night Astronomy class, the one that both Draco and Harry were in this year.

* * *

"Out with it."

"What?" Harry's head jerked up. He'd been punching the target in front of him with a steel glove that Narcissa had made for him over his hand. He blinked at her and pushed his glasses up his nose. "What are you talking about?"

"You've been acting differently in the past few training sessions." Narcissa leaned back on the floor and flexed her leg above her head, wriggling and kicking her foot when it was at its fullest extension. She'd had to hold it in an odd position on most of her climb down the Tower, and now she was paying the price for that. Of course, she would have had to pay a much greater price if she hadn't been in good shape. "Your breathing quickens, and you turn away any questions I ask you about Lupin or Professor Snape or if you've been wandering around the corridors at night." She flipped herself over with a sinuous twist of her body and looked at him across the mat that she'd laid on the floor of her office. "Out with it."

"How can you tell that much just from the way I _breathe_?"

Harry sounded aggravated. Narcissa smiled. "Because of my training. The same training that I'm giving you now." She nodded at the glove he was sliding off. "Weapons are only a part of it, and you know it. The much more important training is using your _head_."

Harry paused, tense, for a long second, and then sat down. "I know."

Narcissa waited, using the moment to calculate angles from which she could throw knives into the walls. He stayed quiet for almost five minutes. But in the end, Harry wasn't nearly as stubborn as Cousin Sirius.

"I got a map," he said softly. "A map that shows the school corridors. They—I mean, someone gave it to me."

 _Just as someone gave you the Invisibility Cloak for your Christmas present two years ago._ But Narcissa kept herself calm and relaxed. The Cloak had almost certainly come from Dumbledore. He could not possibly be the source for the map. "Would you like to tell me their names?"

"Just someone I know. They—I mean, he said I might need it."

"Mm-hmm." Narcissa lowered her head a little. "Harry, as far as I know there is no artifact capable of showing all the corridors of Hogwarts. I assume that you mean it includes the secret passages?"

"Yeah." Harry was studying his fingers raptly.

"Then I don't understand why you told me the map exists, and even what it does, but you won't tell me the names of the people who gave it to you. One is incredibly important, dangerous information. The other is—what? What do you think is going to happen?" Narcissa listened to the way his breathing sped up, and then thought she understood. "Or what do you think I am going to do?"

Harry's head flew up. His eyes were bright and frantic.

"Tell me," Narcissa said, and at the moment she didn't care if she sounded most like a mother or most like a professor or most like a mentor in assassination techniques. What mattered was that she knew this was the tone that would make Harry tell her the truth.

And Harry did. "I saw on the map that you were keeping Sirius Black a prisoner in your rooms," he whispered. "Why? What did he do? And if it's just that he was a threat to me, what are you going to do to anyone _else_ you think is a threat to me?"

Narcissa moved forwards and hugged him. Harry sat stiff and trembling in her arms for a long minute, and then he relaxed enough to duck his head against her chest and hang on as though someone was trying to tear him from his iron grip on her.

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said softly. "I should have told you. If I'd brought you to him earlier, then maybe he would even have told me what he meant about Peter Pettigrew being the real murderer."

Harry blinked at her. Narcissa pushed his glasses up for him and smiled. "I caught Sirius in a trap ward I set out on the grounds when I first came here. It was meant to catch someone of Black blood. He told me that he didn't really betray your parents, that it was Peter Pettigrew, the wizard he supposedly killed. I wanted to hear more about that. But he can turn into a dog, and he's been a dog since that night. He refuses to talk to me. I think he believes me to be a Death Eater."

"So—he's in your quarters because you don't want anyone else to know you have him?"

Narcissa inclined her head. "And because, if he's right and Pettigrew is somewhere in the castle, I don't want word to get out that Sirius is here, too. Pettigrew might flee and hide better than he already has."

"Okay." Harry nodded against her. "I can accept that. But let's go talk to Sirius now. I'm sure that he'll want to talk when he sees me."

* * *

"You keep him in a _cage_?"

"He is a dog," Narcissa said mildly, and shut the door behind Harry. "Not a natural one, but one guided by human intelligence. If I left him free, I am absolutely sure he would cause a mess in my quarters and chew up everything he could get his jaws on. Yes, I keep him in a cage."

Harry just looked at her, and then sighed. "Point."

Sirius had changed back the instant he saw Harry, although he crouched over on his hands and knees so that he wasn't exposing his nakedness to his godson—something Narcissa appreciated. His voice was low and urgent. "Harry, she's a Death Eater. You need to get out of here as soon as you possibly can. Find Dumbledore and—"

"She's training me, Sirius. She's my foster mother. And Dumbledore died about a year and a half ago."

Sirius looked no wiser with his mouth open all the way, Narcissa thought. She shook her head a little. It would be easier to know how intelligent Sirius was, or how mad Azkaban had driven him, if he would act the same way for five minutes in a row.

"But—I would have heard about that."

"You said that Pettigrew's alive and that he's the real traitor," Harry told him. Sirius eagerly nodded along. "But you never broke out of Azkaban for twelve years? Why not, if you knew he was alive?"

"I didn't know until I saw a picture of those friends of yours on their holiday."

Harry looked just as mystified as Narcissa for a minute. Then he snapped his fingers and said, "That's right, the Weasleys went to Egypt this summer, and there was a picture about it in the papers. But what are you talking about? I've met almost all the Weasleys. Pettigrew's not a Weasley."

 _But,_ Narcissa thought, and shifted a little to arrange her legs more comfortably beneath her, _I would wager that the ones who gave you that map are. Because I saw the way you looked at me from the corner of your eye when you said it. And your breathing sped up again._

"Peter learned how to be an Animagus, too. Just like me and James." Sirius's face was heartbroken. "His form was a rat."

" _Scabbers_?"

"Who is Scabbers?" Narcissa asked quietly. Cousin Sirius was still looking at her dubiously, but at least Harry would talk to her.

"Ron's pet rat." Harry was shaking his head a little. "I can't believe it. So you knew that he wasn't dead, and you broke out of Azkaban and came here to—what? Force him to transform back so that you can turn him in?"

"No. I was going to kill him."

Narcissa sighed. _Poor Cousin Sirius. He isn't a professional, so I suppose I can't really expect him to have any idea of professional ethics. But it's so_ sloppy.

"But _why_?" Harry looked the very picture of bewilderment, which meant he had picked up on more of Narcissa's lessons than she had thought he had so far. "Why would you do that, when you need him alive to prove that you're innocent?"

Sirius laughed, and it was wild, with a howl at the end of it. Spending so long as a dog might have had an effect on him even if Azkaban hadn't, Narcissa judged. "I never even got a _trial_ , Harry. If I took Peter to the Ministry, someone would just make him disappear. Probably in embarrassment. Nothing's going to change unless I kill him. And that will give me a lot of satisfaction, and avenge James and Lily—he was their Secret-Keeper, not me, I persuaded them to switch at the last minute, _I killed them_!"

His sudden scream made Narcissa glad of Silencing Charms she had spent hours building into the walls of her quarters. Really, some people had no sense of _decorum._

Justice obliged her to admit that she wouldn't, either, if she had spent twelve years in Azkaban for something she didn't do. But then, the point was that she would never have been captured in the first place.

 _So sloppy._

"But now you have us," Harry said eagerly. "That means we can help capture Pettigrew, and then you can take him to the Ministry, and—"

Sirius was shaking his head. "There's the same problem of someone making him disappear. Besides." He was watching Narcissa warily. "I know that she can't be planning to kill you right away or she would have done it before I was here to stop her, but she's still a Death Eater. What is it, Narcissa? You're keeping him to turn him to the Dark?"

"No. I'm keeping him because I'm his foster mother, and he's my ward, and I love him."

Harry beamed up at her. Sirius noticed it, and his face contorted. "So. You're not just keeping him so that you can turn him to the Dark, you're doing that and tricking him at the same time!"

"She's not tricking me," Harry tried to argue, but Narcissa, watching Sirius's face, put her hand on his shoulder. She doubted her cousin was stable enough right now to listen to anything Harry said, especially if he had decided it was all a Death Eater plot.

"I'm not loyal to the Dark Lord any more than you are, Sirius," she said, and pulled back her sleeve as he'd done, so that he could see her bare arm.

Sirius sneered. "That means _nothing_. Some of the worst people I ever knew weren't the Marked ones, because You-Know-Who wouldn't have allowed them into his inner circle."

"You must make up your mind, Sirius. Either I am a trusted Death Eater raising Harry like a lamb for slaughter, or I am an unmarked supporter who has no reason to feel that much loyalty to the Dark Lord."

Sirius only gave her a look of unanswerable loathing and turned his back, flopping over so that he rested with his head pointing towards the far end of the cage. A second of stomach-twisting power, and he was a dog again.

"So you won't let us tell anyone about Pettigrew?" Harry asked. "You won't tell people that you're innocent even if we capture him?"

Sirius shook his head to each question, and let out a loud _Woof_ at the last one, as if to tell Harry to give up.

Harry gave Narcissa a helpless look. Narcissa bent down and kissed his hair. "Don't worry, Harry. What do I always tell Draco?"

Harry relaxed. He knew she would take care of it when she put it like that. He hugged her and left the room.

Narcissa could tell that Sirius was on the verge of peering over his shoulder at her. She raised her eyebrows. "Well? Is there something you'd like to say?"

He uttered a sound that might have been either another bark or a whoof of air, and turned around again.

Narcissa sat down and studied his back. She either had to come up with a way to persuade Sirius that she didn't follow the Dark Lord, or she had to come up with a way to cleanse the Ministry sufficiently that they would accept Pettigrew and believe what had happened even without Sirius's willing testimony.

She wasn't sure which one was the more worthy challenge of her skills.

* * *

"Miss Smithson, can I talk to you?"

Narcissa had been away most of the day, on Lilith Smithson's "personal business," which was actually doing some shopping in Diagon Alley, checking on the house-elves at Malfoy Manor, and making sure Lucius hadn't had any ideas since she last saw him. She stepped back now and let Draco into her office, smiling down at him. "What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco stood there, stiff and tall, with his hands clasped behind him, until she got the door shut. Then he exhaled and whispered, "Can you take the glamour off, Mum? _Please_."

Narcissa nodded and twisted the brooch to remove it. Then she led Draco over to a comfortable chair near the fire and began to make hot tea and bread with butter. It was obvious he needed it. "What's the matter, darling?"

"I—got a letter from Father today," Draco said. His face was averted. "You know that I only got an Exceeds Expectations on my last essay from McGonagall."

"Yes, I know," Narcissa said. "You told me that you forgot to mention one obvious conclusion from the chapter that would have supported what you were saying better." She had trained Draco not to make such mistakes, but of course they would still happen. She was more interested in making sure they did not happen _again_.

Draco nodded, staring at his hands. "The thing is—Father thinks it should have been an Outstanding. He told me that. I'm glad I was alone when I opened the letter. I—it was almost a Howler."

Narcissa sighed. It seemed Lucius had got ideas, after all, and she would have to take care of that when she returned home. "I'm sorry, Draco. You know that Father and I sometimes disagree on the way we're raising you?"

Draco blinked up at her. "But I thought both of you agreed on how important manners and marks and all the other good things are."

"Yes, but not always how you achieve them. I know that next time, you'll write the conclusion into your essay." Narcissa reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Lucius thinks you should go back and change the past."

"But I couldn't even do that if I had a Time-Turner." Draco's brow was furrowed. "It's too long ago now."

"I know. Your father is not always rational."

Draco abruptly relaxed. "Does that mean that you're going to take care of it and see that this doesn't happen again, Mother?"

"It does."

Draco stood and kissed her, something he hadn't done since last summer when he declared he was too adult for that kind of thing. He would still accept the ones she had initiated, but they weren't as important to Narcissa as this kind were. She resisted the impulse to touch her cheek as he stepped away. "Thank you, Mother."

"Yes, dear. If your apology from your father hasn't arrived by tomorrow, please let me know."

Draco smiled at her and slipped out of her office. Narcissa peacefully sipped her tea and watched the fire, and thought of all the people she needed to intimidate.

Honestly, the list was getting long, which was a sign of her own sloppiness. Ah, well. In the morning she, like Draco, would make sure that the mistake would not happen again.


	6. Narcissa Protective Part Three

Thank you for again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Three_

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Madam Bones." Narcissa smoothed down her robes over her legs and darted a glance at the woman behind the desk before lowering her eyes.

Amelia Bones had pursued Narcissa more than once for crimes she'd committed. Narcissa knew her, well. Amelia would understand nervousness better than she would the quiet confidence Narcissa used in most other social situations as Mrs. Malfoy, and she believed that almost everyone had something on their consciences.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Malfoy." Amelia laced her fingers on the desk, as Narcissa could see when she peeked out from under her lashes. "Now, what is this about? It's unusual that someone of your standing would want to see me in such privacy."

"It is, but…" Narcissa swallowed. "I think when you hear what I've come to say, you'll understand. It's about my Cousin Sirius."

Amelia's face hardened. "You must understand that we have no choice about pursuing him. He broke out of Azkaban—"

"I know, but he's still my cousin." Narcissa bowed her head further, made her hands clasp tighter. "It's hard to reconcile the boy I played with with the deranged fugitive in search of Harry Potter."

"I'm sure it is. But you must understand that this happens all the time. The vast majority of criminals give warning signs that can only be understood in retrospect. Or we would catch most of them sooner."

"I know that, Madam Bones," Narcissa hastened to say. "I am trying to reconcile myself. But I wondered if it would be possible for me to see his trial transcript from immediately after the war? I've never read it, and I didn't attend the trial as my son was sick and I was rather preoccupied with him at the time."

"Hmmm." Madam Bones was peering at her. Narcissa was sure she was remembering what _else_ someone would expect to preoccupy the Malfoy family at that time, Lucius's trial as a Death Eater, but Narcissa remained still and small. Amelia finally said, "And you think reading that would help you reconcile yourself?"

"Yes. He must have said such _dreadful_ things in his trial. I know he did in the street after he killed Pettigrew and those Muggles. If I could see that, I think I could replace my image of him with the real one."

"It's a bit of an unusual request, of course, but it's not sealed. I suppose there's no reason not to let you see it. Wait here, and I'll fetch it for you."

"Thank you, Madam Bones. I do appreciate this." Narcissa sighed. "With one sister of mine in prison, and the other estranged from me, Sirius and I are all that's left of our generation of Blacks. I suppose I'm still seeking a way to reconnect with my past. But it's better to overcome an attachment to the past than to preserve it."

"When it's like this, certainly." Amelia stood up and left the room, shaking her head a little. "It was a shock to all of us when Sirius turned. I'd rather like to see it myself, now that you mention it. One moment."

Narcissa didn't let her meek expression falter while Amelia was gone. She wouldn't put it past the woman to have observation spells in her office that would record the reaction of anyone who visited when she wasn't there. But she did entertain herself with thoughts of what Amelia would say if she knew that the "Tolstone Butcher" and the "Black Butterfly" and the "Shadow over Hogsmeade" were all the same person, and waiting for her to come back with a trial record.

She made sure to flinch back in her chair with surprise when Amelia banged into the room, her expression forbidding and her stride long. "There is no trial record," she announced, and sat down in the chair behind her desk so hard that she nearly rattled her monocle out of her eye.

"I don't understand," said Narcissa, blinking. "You mean it's been mis-filed somehow?"

"No. I mean that it is _gone_." Amelia's hands writhed on the sides of the desk. "It doesn't exist. Apparently Sirius Black never had a trial. When I couldn't find the records, I got in contact with Bartemius Crouch, who was Head of the Department at the time, and that is what he told me." She obviously fought for control, her nostrils and eyes both bulging for a moment. "How they could have sentenced a fellow _Auror_ to trial without working out exactly how he had betrayed the Potter and what other secrets he might have compromised…."

"Excuse me." Narcissa adopted the haughty expression that, in colder shades, worked to convince Lucius that he _really_ didn't want to do what he thought he wanted to do. "Do you mean to tell me that my cousin was simply thrown into Azkaban?"

"Crouch said that they assumed he was guilty because of his confession when the Aurors captured him." Amelia snorted, a bitter sound Narcissa thought a gorgon might have been proud of. "All he said was, 'I killed them.' Yes, a confession _in_ deed." She turned to Narcissa. "You may rest assured that I am going to countermand the Minister's order that Black be Kissed on sight. We have to know what is going on! We have to know that he's _actually_ guilty!"

Narcissa nodded. "I see. Thank you, Madam Bones." She hesitated as she stood. "Perhaps some of the young cousin I knew still survives."

"I don't know if it would have survived Azkaban," Amelia said shortly. "But you're right that we need to look more clearly at our pasts."

Narcissa nodded again and quietly left the room. She had known all along there was no trial record, of course. Sirius had told them that much—or told _Harry_ that much, his head carefully pressed against the side of the cage so that he could look just at Harry and pretend she didn't exist.

But she did so enjoy letting other people discover the truth for themselves.

"You're not going to turn him to the Dark," Sirius said, his gaze fixed on Narcissa.

"Oh, really?" Narcissa lifted her head. She was reading the _Prophet_ that had the front-page story about the Ministry discovering Sirius had never had a trial, but other than a choking noise when she opened it, Sirius had said nothing about it. He was too busy staring at her and coming up with dark conspiracies she could use Harry for.

"No. You're keeping him so that you can have him marry Draco and gain control of the Potter properties!"

Narcissa began to laugh, something she tried not to do in her dealings with Sirius, because it would put him off further. "You think Harry would simply sign his properties away to anyone?" she gasped, when she could breathe again.

"You would _make_ him. And Draco would—make him." Sirius sounded a little less certain about that, probably because he'd never met Draco. But he sat back in his cage and folded his arms and nodded about it.

"I am so flattered that you think my son that accomplished in seduction, Sirius," Narcissa said dryly, making Sirius splutter. "But no. I want to make Harry's life better. If _you_ cannot believe that, it's not my problem." She folded the paper and held it out to him. "Amelia Bones is saying now that you deserve a proper trial. Wouldn't that be easier if they had the _actual_ culprit to use Veritaserum on?"

Sirius turned his back and scowled at the far side of the cage. Narcissa had made it bigger since he'd started spending more time in human form, but at the moment, he simply turned into a dog and thumped down, still from his head to his tail.

Narcissa shook her head. She would not succeed with Sirius with these tactics. She would have to talk to Harry.

* * *

"But what's going to happen to Sirius over Christmas?" Harry asked her anxiously as they stepped into the Manor. Narcissa had offered to "escort Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter home," since she supposedly knew the Malfoys in her guise as Lilith Smithson, and they'd just come through the fire. Narcissa dropped her glamour and reached out to touch Harry's forehead with a smile before replying.

"I've brought his cage along. The house-elves will be taking care of him in a room upstairs. I'll show you which one later, and you can visit him whenever you want."

"All right!" Harry said, his face brightening. He raced off with Draco, who was already saying something about counting who had more gifts under the tree. Narcissa rolled her eyes. They had exactly equal numbers of gifts, of course, something Draco should have anticipated already.

"Narcissa."

Her husband was hovering near the doorway of the sitting room, his face pale. Narcissa smiled at him. " _Dear_ Lucius," she said, and moved towards him. "You've behaved since the Howler I sent you, which mitigates your punishment. Somewhat."

Lucius swallowed. His face was the color of the marble in the hearth behind them now, down to the slight tint of pink on his cheeks. "Really?"

 _Pettigrew will probably squeak much the same way when we move to take him,_ Narcissa thought, and smoothed her hand down his cheek. "Yes. But there still remains a debt to be paid. You still _distressed_ Draco." She leaned in to speak into his ear, not-so-incidentally letting her lips brush the lobe of his ear. "What kind of punishment do you think you deserve for that?"

His answer involved no chains, but it _did_ involve indulgences that Narcissa was willing to grant him. She laughed and dragged him upstairs. He stumbled behind her, keeping his eyes on the flashing movement of her lean, strong legs under her robes that swayed and parted.

Narcissa had cast that glamour just for him. Never let it be said that she did _nothing_ nice for her husband.

* * *

Harry had listened to her, and he was ready to start his persuasion on Sirius after the orgy of gift-unwrapping that was the typical Malfoy Christmas. Wrapped in the new robes that Narcissa had got him—with hidden pockets and slits so that he could hide and kick things unexpectedly—Harry entered the room that Narcissa had given Sirius.

She went with him, of course, and so did Draco. Draco had been told the truth when it became obvious that they would have to bring Sirius home with them. He was giving Sirius a highly unimpressed look from the doorway.

The black dog ignored them.

Harry sat down in the carpet between the guest bed that formed the centerpiece of the room and the cage, and began to talk. "Did you know that until I started getting new robes from Mrs. Malfoy for Christmas, I'd never got new clothes before? I just wore whatever my cousin did. They were the people Dumbledore put me with, the Muggles. I didn't know that I was _worthy_ of new clothes. I was so surprised when I saw the pile of presents just for me…"

And on it went. Narcissa managed to detach herself from the litany and listen. Draco was scowling from his position. Narcissa shot him a look.

Draco swallowed and wiped the expression from his face. Narcissa nodded gently at him. Yes, it was hard to listen to Harry recite the awful conditions he'd been subjected to. But reminding Sirius they were there would just get in the way of Harry, hopefully, talking her stubborn cousin into working with them.

By the time Harry had got to how he had to make worse marks in school than his cousin, the black dog was facing him. Harry paused to take a breath. The dog whined softly.

"Sorry, just my throat is dry," Harry apologized, and he reached out a hand without looking. A house-elf appeared and handed him a glass of iced pumpkin juice. Harry took a swallow and went on. "And the one teacher who did think I could be smart, well, all that had to happen was she visited Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and heard about how much trouble I caused, and she never…"

Sirius sat back further on his haunches as he listened. Narcissa did much the same thing, mind drifting tranquil and relaxed, although she would remember the pertinent details of what Harry said for later. Draco joined her on the bed and curled up next to her, and that seemed to soothe some of his agony.

Harry finally stood up and looked at Sirius and said simply, "Mrs. Malfoy took me away from all that. I know you don't trust her, and maybe you have your reasons, but what _I_ know is that she's keeping me from being helpless. She always takes care of the problems that I ask her to, Sirius. She's the one I want to live with."

Narcissa wondered if that was a wise thing to say. Surely Sirius would want his godson to live with him, if his name was cleared. But Sirius's eyes were huge and soft, and he only watched as Harry walked to the doorway instead of trying to call him back.

Or changing to human, but Narcissa suspected that would come in time.

Draco kept silent until they shut the door. Then he looked at Harry and said, "I thought you would keep talking until he understood you."

"It has to be in stages," Harry said calmly. "He's too stubborn to be convinced right away. This way, I can talk him around and he'll half-think that it's his own idea before the end."

Narcissa smiled. Harry had learned patience well.

"Okay." Draco paused, shifted his shoulders, and then grabbed Harry and held him. Harry blinked, and his eyes shot to Narcissa. Narcissa spread her hands. If Harry thought there was a poison or strike that would get him out of this, he should have learned his lessons better. Patience was only one.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Draco whispered, his voice choked. "I know that you don't really care about someone going and getting revenge on your relatives—"

 _And there is my son. It's not that he doesn't want vengeance, it's that he wants to do something that will_ matter _to Harry._

"But I want you to know that I'm going to _remember_ it. And Mother isn't the only one who's going to try to make up for that, okay? Just the only one that you need to talk to Black about."

"Er, all right," Harry said, and his sharp blinking made the way Draco broke away from him with a firm nod and started steering him down the stairs all the funnier. Harry looked back at her with as eyes as big as moons.

Narcissa only followed with the cat-like smile that had driven Lucius crazy when he was courting her in school. She had envisioned, more than once, Harry as her replacement for Draco's protector when she was gone. Now she thought they would be more likely to take care of each other.

Not that even an unbalanced relationship would be the same as hers and Lucius's. For one thing, Draco was considerably smarter than Lucius.

For another, neither of them had yet demonstrated the taste for punishment that Lucius did.

* * *

"All right."

Narcissa blinked and looked up. Sirius had been keeping her company in his cage, as was usual for this time of evening. For a moment, her mind hovered so much among the essays she was marking in her position as Sinistra's assistant that she could not imagine what he was talking about.

Then she did, and smiled as she pulled back her chair from the desk. "Do you want me to fetch Harry?"

"I—yes. He deserves to be there to see Wormtail captured." Sirius stared down at his clenched hands. "Just knowing that I could have been there to spare him a childhood with Vernon and Petunia if I'd only taken my responsibilities _seriously_ …."

Ah. So it was the tale of what Harry had escaped from that had captured him, more than the tale of what he had escaped to. Narcissa refrained from shrugging. She could work with either. "Wait here, then."

It was the work of twenty minutes to find Harry in the library, where he was studying with Draco, and lead him back to her rooms. Draco insisted on coming, too. Since Narcissa had no intention of depriving either of her children of a taste of triumph, if they wanted to share it, she let him.

Sirius looked raptly at Harry when he came in, but it was Narcissa he spoke to. "And you think Amelia Bones would _really_ make sure I was given a trial?"

"She just said it again in the papers last week. She blames herself for never having realized you weren't given one until now."

"All right." Sirius shut his eyes and melted into dog form. Narcissa opened the cage and conjured a leash and collar for him, and then led him, Harry, and Draco out of her offices and towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Do you know where Weasley's going to be?" Draco asked Harry quietly.

"I do think it's the Tower," Harry muttered back. "He was in the library earlier, but he only stays there as long as Hermione and I make him."

 _Last year, it would have been for as long as Granger alone made him,_ Narcissa thought, and smiled a private smile.

Sirius trotted beside them until they got to Gryffindor Tower. Then he pulled at the leash and growled. Narcissa reached down to smack his nose. He stared at her.

"By all means, keep up the noise if you want to warn Pettigrew that we're coming," Narcissa told him.

Sirius shrank down by her side and whimpered, which was nearly as exasperating as all the rest. But Narcissa merely rolled her eyes and waited while Harry gave the Gryffindor password.

The students turned to stare at them when they climbed through the portrait, making Narcissa grateful once again for her disguise. She maintained an icy expression on her face and asked, "Where is the youngest Mr. Weasley? Please tell him to come here at once. And to bring his rat."

One of the boys Narcissa didn't know shot up the stairs, while the other Gryffindors murmured excitedly among themselves. Probably assuming that Weasley had got into trouble by bringing his rat to class. Narcissa waited with a remote expression that kept the children from questioning her, and pulled Sirius's leash slightly until he moved behind her. If Pettigrew ran because he saw a black dog, they would have to put in the effort of a tedious chase.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. Weasley came down the stairs, staring at her apprehensively. The rat was in his hands. Sirius promptly went mad and lunged out from behind Narcissa, barking and snarling. Of course that snatched the leash from her hold, and the rat leaped from Weasley's hands and dashed towards the open portrait hole as another student came in. Sirius ran straight after him, and Draco and Harry joined the chase.

Narcissa looked up at the ceiling in silent question as to why she was the only sane person in this world, and then followed.

Pettigrew wove a winding course, attempting to throw them off the trail, but Sirius, either because of his sense of smell or his hatred, stayed close behind. Pettigrew did make it down five staircases and past six or seven different doors before he ran under one of them. Sirius promptly scratched at the door and started yelping hysterically.

There was a crash, a splattering noise, and the sound of shocked cursing from behind the door. Narcissa frowned and looked at Draco. Draco panted at her, "This is Professor Lupin's office."

Narcissa spun back just as Lupin said in a strained voice, "If you could stay out…?" She cast a _Tempus_ Charm and cursed softly as she watched the numbers form. Near moonrise.

"We really need that rat!" Harry yelled through the door. He had to raise his voice and yell twice to be heard over Sirius's insane barks.

"I—fine, I'll give it to you. But I need you to go to Professor Snape and tell him that I need more Wolfsbane, that my potion has been knocked over by the rat, all right?" They heard Lupin move what sounded like a piece of furniture, and then enraged squeaking. If the rat bit Lupin, there was no sound of his reaction.

"I promise," Harry said eagerly.

With a sense of inevitability, Narcissa watched the door open and Lupin hold the rat out. His eyes widened at the sight of her, and still more at the sight of Sirius. "What—"

Pettigrew tried to leap from Lupin's hands the way he had from Weasley's, but Narcissa cast a Summoning Charm. She pulled the special cage she'd prepared from her robe pocket and tucked the rat into it.

As if in slow motion, she watched the fur bristling alongside Lupin's face, his head arched back, his toes flexing out as his arms grew and turned into legs. Sirius's bark of welcome turned into a yap of alarm, and he flung himself at the newly-turned werewolf. But Lupin threw him off with a single shrug and spun towards Draco and Harry, the light of madness in his eyes.

Narcissa sighed. Of course this would happen, because she was the only sane one here.

And of course she would have to use the one talent that would do any good in this situation. She twisted smoothly to bring her body between Lupin and her boys, and called on her magic.

The Animagus transformation flooded down from her mind and over her body, lighting silent fireworks of magic along her body. She could feel her skin breaking for the fur, her head lengthening and growing upwards, her teeth curving, her hands becoming almost all palm, her balance wavering as her center of mass shifted. The only blessing was that she didn't have to feel a tail growing.

And before Lupin could finish his lunge, the enormous Kodiak grizzly she had become swatted the werewolf with one paw and watched him fly back through the door.

Sirius tried to pile into the room after Lupin, which made Narcissa wonder where one drew the line between stubborn and stupid. She snatched him back, spilling him rolling and wheezing into the corridor and the far wall. That didn't matter. What mattered was the werewolf in front of her, nearly back out of his room.

Narcissa stuck her head down in front of him and roared as loudly as she could.

The power of the sound reverberated in the corridor and probably the stomachs of everyone in the castle, and certainly the werewolf's skull. Lupin stumbled, from shock or pain. Narcissa didn't care which. Again she swiped at him, and Lupin flew a good five meters, to the other side of his office. In the meantime, Narcissa seized the doorknob of the office in her teeth, pulled the door shut, and reverted to human form so that she could cast some powerful, and dubiously legal, locking charms on it.

Howls and clawing came from the other side. Narcissa turned around, cast _Reparo_ on her robes, and said calmly to Draco, "If you would fetch the Headmistress, please?"

They got their wits back enough to do what she asked. Narcissa turned around to look at Sirius. He was limping and staring at her with huge eyes.

" _That's_ how you handle these things," she told him. She checked to make sure that Pettigrew was still all right in his cage, and he cowered. Well, from what she knew of him, that was hardly surprising.

She could see how the future would unspool from here. The Headmistress would deal with Lupin, and probably find some excuse to retain him as a professor for next year. Acceptable, in light of certain things he would learn to understand. If necessary, they would report her Animagus form to Sinistra, who would say that of course her assistant was registered, but preferred to keep her form quiet. They would find an excuse for how the dog who had shown up and convinced Miss Smithson to feed him was really Sirius Black, and take the rat to the Ministry. Sirius would have his trial and be freed, and would remain part of Harry's life.

It did not mean that he would take _guardianship_ of Harry, of course. Anyone stupid enough to jump at a werewolf in dog form wasn't worthy of that.

"Miss Smithson?"

Harry's voice was low. Narcissa finished readjusting her robes and her glamour and turned to him with a smile. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"You—you said that your Animagus form wasn't very useful."

Narcissa let her smile broaden. "Not useful for stealth. I never said that it couldn't be useful in other ways."

"Oh." Harry looked at the floor, and then back up at her.

His eyes shone with admiration. Narcissa patted his head.

Sirius _would_ be there for Harry. But he could never come between them.


	7. Narcissa Tournamental

"What is it, Harry?"

"I don't know. I've been having these disturbing dreams lately, where I can hear a hissing voice telling a snake to do something, and then everything fades to black. I don't understand them. But they make my scar hurt."

Narcissa moved swiftly across the dueling room and knelt down to slide her hand across Harry's forehead. "Let me see."

Harry did, although he winced as her hand glided across his forehead. Narcissa considered the scar, compared it to her memories of how the thing usually looked, and found cause for concern. This looked as if it was new-inflicted, with traces of a scab and dried blood on it. She nodded and glanced at Harry. "You told the house-elves not to tell me there was blood on your sheets, didn't you?"

Harry flushed and looked as if he would squirm away from her for no good reason. But Narcissa was not someone who permitted things like that to happen. She went on staring, and Harry finally muttered, "I should have known I couldn't hide things from you."

"Yes. And usually you have better sense than to try. So I want to know what was different enough about this time to make you think you could."

Harry looked at his feet instead of answering. Narcissa only waited. They were in the middle of their training room, which had gained more weapons and obstacles for Harry to practice on this summer. He could look nowhere that would not remind him of what he was aspiring to, or her greater prowess in his skills.

Harry finally sighed noisily and muttered, "You don't—you'll think it's stupid."

"When have I ever thought a complaint was stupid? Or a dream of yours?"

Harry looked harder at his hands, which were clenched together. "I didn't tell you about the blood because that wasn't the only thing on the sheets that night," he said tightly.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow, then patted his shoulder. "And that is only a normal, ordinary part of growing up, Harry. You could still have told me about both. Embarrassment is not a good trait for an assassin to have. We might hesitate to do something that could save our lives or someone else's life because of it."

"Oh." Harry hesitated. "I'm not really an assassin yet, am I?"

"Of course not. You're not trained."

Harry swallowed noisily. "But what if I just want to use my skills to protect the people I—my friends, and not kill people?"

Narcissa smiled. "You will find that sometimes you can only do that by killing someone. Or something. I have dispatched magical creatures, too, when they were threatening someone else and I was being paid." Perhaps the diary would even count as a magical creature, although Narcissa preferred to think that was simply Riddle's foulness.

Harry said nothing for some length of time. Narcissa settled back comfortably on her heels, and waited.

Finally, Harry said, "So what do you think I should do about the scar and the dreams?"

"Write to your godfather, first of all. If this is something he's heard of, then I would like to know." Sirius had vowed to research curse scars and see if he could learn anything about Harry's. Now that he was officially free, after his trial in the Ministry, he could gain access to private collections of books and libraries more openly, including collections that Narcissa, as an accused Death Eater's wife, would be turned away from.

"All right. If he hasn't heard of it?"

"Then we start training you in Occlumency," Narcissa said. "I was already considering that, but until now, building up your physical skills was more important. I think you are reaching the boundary of being able to handle yourself in a fight. Now we can defend your mind."

Harry nodded, the stiff lines in his face smoothing out, to Narcissa's relief. He already knew about Occlumency and Legilimency as concepts, although he hadn't done any training with them yet.

"What's the first step?"

"Look into my eyes, and do your best to clear your mind," Narcissa said, and when Harry gave her a puzzled look, hid a smile. It was going to be a long training period, that was clear.

* * *

"What are you doing with that mask, Lucius?"

"No—nothing."

Lucius tried to whisk the white mask behind his back, but Narcissa stepped easily towards him and took it out of his hands. She turned it over and looked at it curiously, but truly, she didn't need much time to recognize it. It was the same mask he had worn when he played at being a Death Eater and acted as though his Mark was important compared to the wedding vows that bound him to her and Draco.

"Strange that you would have this with you when we're getting ready to go to the Quidditch World Cup," Narcissa remarked, and threw the mask back.

"I—you never know what might come up," Lucius said feebly. "I mean, for example, I might see some of the other _accused_ Death Eaters there."

"Yes?"

"And we might want to reminisce about—old times."

"I think," Narcissa said, and made her smile sweet and sharp and strong, "any reminiscing that you do would best be done in private, with a drink, and absolutely _no_ white masks and dark cloaks and walking around waving wands in the air." She stepped towards Lucius and lowered her voice. "Do you understand me, Lucius?"

He squeaked and then nodded fervently. Narcissa had promised him once that he would lose both her and Draco if he tried to make too many moves in the service of the Dark Lord. It seemed that conversation still held sway in his memory.

 _Sometimes, I think he can learn,_ Narcissa thought, and patted his shoulder, and went to make sure that the two excited boys were fully dressed and ready to leave. They had seats in the top box, of course. Flashing the Minister a charming smile on occasion was worth it.

Never mind what thoughts lay _behind_ the smile. Narcissa had a knife thirsty to taste Fudge's blood, especially when his hands wandered. Unfortunately, Fudge was useful to Lucius, so the poor thing would just have to wait.

* * *

When the first screams erupted through the campsite, Narcissa immediately cast a spell that spread a shimmering silver net around Draco and Harry. Draco, who'd been about to bolt out of the tent, caught his breath and stared.

"What does this mean, Mother?" he asked, eyes shifting to her. Narcissa nodded. He could certainly have worse responses in this situation than curiosity.

"It means that someone has done something stupid," Narcissa said, listening. There were screams of two different kinds, she thought. There were yells of pain and those of fear. The fearful ones were predominant. There were Death Eaters Muggle-baiting, as she had thought there would be from the moment she arrived at the campsite and found Muggles there, and there were those reacting to something else.

"I meant the spell, Mother."

Narcissa gave a faint smile over her shoulder as she slipped out of the tent. "Figure it out. You should be able to, or at least Harry should be able to, from his studies."

"What does the spell do, Harry?" Draco asked, and if he stumbled a little over Harry's name, Narcissa thought that no bad thing, either.

She walked swiftly through the tents and into the woods, casting a spell that would make glances skim across her and think her only part of the shadows. She understood the screams of fear when she reached a gap in the trees and tilted her head back to see the Dark Mark floating above them.

 _Ah. Then there is someone more than the Muggle-baiting Death Eaters here. They would be stupid enough to begin with the baiting in the first place, but they would not do something that might call their old allegiances into question._

Narcissa closed her eyes and sank into her own magic, into the parts of her discipline that she rarely used. Most of the time, simpler spells and weapons could protect her and enable her to find her target. But someone who had done this would either have hidden or be hidden by someone else, most likely, and she would have to pierce stronger barriers than usual.

Her breath whistled out of her, fierce and cold. The lines of the magic around her cracked apart from the world and became visible. When Narcissa opened her eyes again, she was in the middle of a fierce black world crisscrossed with writhing nets of silver, like the one she had imprisoned Draco and Harry in.

She made her way calmly through the blackness, her own spell preventing others from seeing her or running into her, and found the transparent line threaded through with gold that meant an Invisibility Cloak was at work. Her first thought was Harry, but her confidence dismissed that. There was no way he could break through the spell she had used without understanding it first, and his training had not advanced that far.

It only took working her way through a few clumps of trees and past a half-collapsed tent for her to find the source of the tension. Fudge was arguing with a man it took Narcissa a moment to place: Bartemius Crouch, another Ministry flunky. Standing next to them was a house-elf, wringing her hands. On the ground in front of them was a wand that Narcissa recognized at a glance. Lucius's.

 _So he was out here in the forest, reminiscing._ Narcissa filed the thought away, and turned her head to trace the transparent cord only she could see.

There was a man there, hidden under an Invisibility Cloak. He was rigid and staring straight ahead. Imperius Curse, most likely, Narcissa thought, studying him. But he must have been free to use the wand. She knew there were limits to Lucius's stupidity. He might have been Muggle-baiting, but he would never have relinquished his wand to anyone else willingly.

 _Good. Then he will yet live._

Both Fudge and Crouch were shouting—Fudge defending Lucius, his ally and bribemaster, Crouch insisting that all evidence pointed to Lucius casting the Dark Mark and his house-elf was innocent—but Crouch's gaze went sideways more often. He knew about the man in the Cloak, then. And he knew that the man had cast the Dark Mark.

But he was blaming her husband.

 _Well, then_. Narcissa descended once more into her training and dismissed the sight of the crawling cords of magic. It would only distract her when she took care of the problem. She knew where the man in the Invisibility Cloak stood by his disturbance in the leaves, and she did not need her eyes to aim.

She always carried powerful, virulent poison, and it was the work of a moment to coat her blades with it. Then she threw two knives at once, from slightly difference angles, with enough force to cut through a far stronger cloak. By the time the man gurgled and fell over, and Crouch and Fudge had only begun to turn to look, Narcissa had withdrawn behind the tree and used her own Disillusionment Charm.

She strolled calmly back to the tent, to listen in delight to Harry's theoretical explanation of the silver net that had kept them caged. It was a more pleasant exercise than waiting for Lucius to return.

* * *

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and that end was Lucius stumbling through the tent flap looking as if he expected one of her poisoned blades to strike into _his_ throat.

It would not happen, of course. Should she be forced to kill her husband, Narcissa would not make his death so traceable.

Harry and Draco were both asleep in the next room of the tent, which meant Narcissa cast a Silencing Charm on her husband right away and shook her head when he opened his mouth to explain. "I saw your wand lying on the ground between Crouch and Fudge," she said. "Did you get it back?"

Lucius nodded.

"And you got out of the predicament without causing trouble for our family with the Ministry?"

Another nod. In truth, Narcissa would have been surprised if she had got any other response. Lucius was a genius in his limited arena.

 _What a pity that he so often steps outside it._

"What did you tell them?" she asked, and removed the Silencing Charm.

Lucius swallowed, and Narcissa ignored the flicker of his eyes to her hands. There were things more important than what Lucius found attractive right now. "That someone brushed by me in the crowd and took my wand, which is true. Crouch seemed—most anxious not to inquire further into the matter once I told him that."

"Yes, I killed the man who took your wand," Narcissa said, with a faint frown. It seemed that Crouch had been doing something he didn't want found out, bringing that young man to the Quidditch World Cup and keeping him under an Invisibility Cloak, but she had no idea what he could have achieved with it. "Under the Imperius Curse and an Invisibility Cloak, facing the other way—but Crouch knew he was there."

Lucius fell silent, his brow wrinkled as his brain worked. Narcissa let him do it. Lucius was useful when he was not swaggering on about his purity of blood.

"I wonder," Lucius said, slowly, "if it could have been his son. Barty Crouch, Jr. A fanatical Death Eater, who supposedly died in Azkaban at about the same time as his wife died."

"Easy enough to switch one body for another, one person for another," Narcissa murmured, and nodded. "Did Crouch seem as if he was able to explain the body to Fudge's satisfaction?"

"He expressed the same astonishment as Fudge did," said Lucius, tilting his head. "Said that the man must have been the one who cast the Dark Mark and was hiding under the Cloak, listening to them in order to thwart whatever the Ministry chose to do next. The resemblance between him and the young man wasn't very noticeable. I suspect that Fudge swallowed it whole. You know his paranoia."

"And his pride," Narcissa said softly. "He always assumes that if something happens near him, it must be _targeted_ at him."

Lucius went still and stared at her warily. He knew he was in trouble when she used that tone, although he obviously didn't see how yet.

"Lucius, Lucius, Lucius." Narcissa stepped up to him and gently rapped her dagger against his teeth. Lucius winced. "Your own pride is _enormous_. You thought I wouldn't find out? _Really_?" It was disappointment and not wrath she felt, and she let that seep into her voice, and Lucius flinched more from that than the dagger. "What were you doing out in the woods?"

"I—it's so _frustrating_ , Narcissa," Lucius burst out suddenly, sounding like someone purging a wound. "To watch the Muggles and the Mudbloods prancing around, acting like they're mightier than us, as if purity of blood means _nothing_! I know you don't like the Dark Lord, but he did promise to cleanse them, and it's good to be back with like-minded people and release some of that energy…."

Narcissa stood back and let the purging go on, the venomous words flowing out of him, the way she would have listened to Draco complain about someone he didn't like in Slytherin House. The difference was, Lucius wasn't fourteen years old.

"Feel better?" Narcissa asked, when he was done.

Lucius nodded, and then his eyes glowed with apprehension. He had _just_ remembered, from his expression, about his promised punishment.

"You may miss the Dark Lord all you like," Narcissa said, and moved towards him. He didn't try to shrink away, probably because he knew it would do no good. "You committed to following him when you were young and stupid—before you met me. I will not tolerate this stupidity now, Lucius." Her voice was a hammer, and she watched the nails of her words striking him. "Any more than I would have tolerated you releasing that diary into Hogwarts. You must choose now who you wish to serve. Me and Draco, or your Dark Lord."

Lucius found courage somewhere in the depths of his heart. "If I choose him?"

"Then you will not see me again," Narcissa said flatly. "Or Draco."

"You would leave—"

"Yes, we would. And you will not _see_ me again, Lucius." Narcissa smiled, and let him think about all the things she could do from out of sight.

Lucius shuddered and flung himself on her neck. "I choose you," he mumbled frantically into her ear.

"A wise choice," Narcissa said, and touched his hair for a moment before she turned and Transfigured the first whip for the second, and less agonizing, part of the punishment.

The expression of sheer gratitude on his face was part of the reason she had married him.


	8. Narcissa Tournamental Part Two

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Narcissa Tournamental, Part Two_

"They _are_ having the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts?" Narcissa had been gone the last few days on a mission that was well-deserved and well-paying, and she hadn't had time to read the _Daily Prophet._ She tossed her hair—newly freed of the dye that had made it look black—over her shoulder and eyed Lucius.

Lucius nodded on the other side of the lunch table. "Apparently it's some kind of attempt to harmonize relationships between the three schools." He held out the paper.

Narcissa turned it around, and read the article with growing amusement. There was a short history on the second page of how many Champions had died in the last few Tournaments before they'd stopped having them. Narcissa shook her head. "There are many easier ways to kill themselves if they want to," she murmured. "Be foolish enough and I would be happy to put a knife in their hearts."

Lucius took the paper back and cautiously stirred up his soup. "Are you going to warn Draco and Harry about it?"

"Tell them about it. Not warn." Narcissa shrugged and returned to her own plate. "They're both smart enough not to risk trying to enter. I'm sure there will be an Age Line or similar precaution. And even if Sirius is reckless enough to try and put the idea in Harry's head…"

"I'm sure he's smarter than that."

"Perhaps. Grown men aren't, always."

That made Lucius flush and keep his eyes on the soup for the rest of the meal.

* * *

"Be brave this year," Narcissa said, her hands resting lightly on Harry's shoulders. "Keep up with your training even though I'm not there."

Harry blinked and stood straighter. "Of course."

"And feel free to write to me about _anything_. Including any ridiculous plans your friends might try to involve you in, or the mad behavior of someone else." Narcissa let her eyes flicker sideways for one instant, to where Draco was waving his arms around as he told Pansy Parkinson about their trip to Greece this summer.

This time, Harry had a smile for her. "Of course. Good-bye, Narcissa. Thank you." For an instant, he leaned lightly against her, enough not to disturb either his hidden weapons or get pricked by hers. Then he moved back, and caught Weasley's eye, and they were lost in a conversation about Quidditch that Narcissa could only follow because of that time she'd been undercover spying out the true allegiances of a player on multiple teams.

"Draco, darling."

Draco stepped up to her and gave her a solemn look. Narcissa ran her fingers through his hair and smoothed it down again, then smiled at him. She wouldn't tell him to watch out for Harry, because Harry was capable of doing that himself now, and more cautious to boot. He knew what would happen if he risked his life needlessly and she caught him.

But she did have something she wanted to say.

"I want you to remember that you have every right to be proud, Draco," she said, and bent to kiss his forehead. "But you don't need to remind others of it at every opportunity, or step on _their_ toes in your desire to be proud. Do you understand?"

A soft pink flush ran up down Draco's neck to his cheeks, and he hung his head. "You're saying the way I bragged to Pansy was wrong."

"Do you think _she_ had the chance to go on holiday and see the naiads dancing in the waterfalls?"

Draco shook his head silently. Then he said, "But she liked hearing about it—I mean, what do I do if someone asks me the _question_? I can't just lie and pretend I didn't go on holiday or I'm not rich, right?"

"No. But think of the courtesy your father and I show at parties. Or with Ministry politicians who are hoping for some of our gold but don't have it yet. What do you see us do? Answer every question in the same way?"

Draco stood, thinking deeply. Narcissa waited. She had deliberately brought them early so that the Hogwarts Express wouldn't leave before she could have the conversations she needed to with her son and Harry.

Draco finally said, "No?" Narcissa raised an eyebrow, and he repeated it more firmly. "No, I mean. You don't just answer honestly. You smile, and sometimes you hint about how much you enjoyed an event or a party or something someone did, and you might contribute to that enjoyment. Or you say that travel broadened your mind and made you able to see a new perspective."

"Exactly." Narcissa touched his shoulders this time, which had straightened from their slump. She was glad to see that. It was never her intention to chastise her child, only to correct him. "Be gentle, Draco. You don't need to insult others. You don't need to confront them. Those are certainly tactics, but only valuable in the proper context. Do your smiling and your courtesy to their faces, and if you need to laugh at them, do it later."

"Is that even valuable with people like Pansy who want to help us or who can't hurt our family?"

"Yes, of course. Remember that someone with an unreasonable sense of anger or entitlement can still hurt you. It might not be deeply—someone you insulted at Hogwarts might only spread a rumor about you instead of try to duel you—but I don't want you hurt _at all_. Use your words and manners to defend yourself."

"That's not the sort of thing you're teaching Harry."

"Harry is naturally the kind of person who can depend on his weapons better than his words."

Draco grinned, then, brighter than Narcissa thought she had seen since the World Cup. "Is that your way of saying that he has no tact?"

"Oh, he'll learn the kind that keeps him from resorting to violence indiscriminately. But I do believe in letting you both play to your strengths, not forcing you into the same mold."

Draco nodded, and then the train whistle blew so loudly that they wouldn't have been able to continue their conversation much longer. Narcissa sighed and embraced her son one last time, which he might only have let her do because no one was watching. "Be safe, darling. Remember to owl me if you have any concerns."

"Of course," said Draco, and then he dashed away towards the train, yelling for Harry to come with him. Harry quickly made his excuses to his friends and caught up with Draco. For a moment, when they were balanced in the entrance to the compartment they'd chosen, Narcissa saw them share a swift private smile.

 _Like me and Lucius,_ Narcissa thought. _Only better._

She Apparated home in a cheerful frame of mind.

* * *

The low growl in front of her made Narcissa crouch down. She shook her head. The perfume that she had bought in Knockturn Alley as a mask for her scent had not worked as advertised. She would need to visit the seller and…explain…her disappointment.

The werewolf took a long sniff and padded closer to the bracken. Narcissa waited until it had come close enough that she could make out the arch of the throat, and then she threw the knife.

It struck only glancingly, but it opened a scratch, and that was enough for the poison she'd coated the blade with. The beast kicked and thrashed and screamed. Narcissa stood up from the bracken she'd been hiding in and walked over, bending down to draw another knife and carve open the werewolf's belly. The woman who had hired her had made her promise to do this, even though it would be her poison that killed the savage. Her client's husband had died that way from the werewolf's claws.

"This is for Bethelyn Graves," said Narcissa, speaking to the werewolf, although she thought the pained howls probably drowned out her voice.

Finally, the werewolf lay still, and Narcissa shook her head again and cut off one paw as proof. She cast the spell that would burn the rest of the body and Apparated home. She had no blood on her, but the sweat of work was still thick enough to make her want a shower.

Lucius entered as she was binding her wet hair back. For once, his eyes didn't linger on the waterdrops sliding down her shoulders, which made Narcissa frown at him. "What is it?"

"Draco wrote us this letter," Lucius said quietly, and held it out.

 _Us_. That was unusual. Most of the time, Draco either wanted his father's praise or her confidence. Narcissa dried the outer strands of hair that might drip and sat down on the rose-colored couch just outside the bathroom, reading with a rapid gaze.

It said baldly, _Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. I know he probably thinks he can survive since you've been training him, but it was still a stupid thing for him to do. And he didn't_ tell _me_!

Narcissa spent a moment stroking the parchment, and cast a few spells that would identify whether the person writing these words was under an enchantment, such as the Imperius Curse, that compelled them to write certain things. But no result for that came back. Draco had written this letter.

It simply made no sense that Harry would have decided to risk entering the Tournament when he knew he would have to deal with _her_.

Or else, someone had done it for him.

Narcissa spent a moment mourning her loss of relaxing time, and cast the charm that would dry her hair completely. Then she Summoned one of the black robes that was slit up the sides and let her move most easily from the nearest hanger, and began to dress. "Don't wait up for me, Lucius."

"You're going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"What about the wards—"

"As if I wouldn't have planted workarounds in them when I was there last year," said Narcissa, and looked at him until he bowed his head. He rubbed at his left arm, and Narcissa glanced at it briefly. It did seem that the last time she had seen the Dark Mark, it had looked blacker than it had all these years.

But that was a crisis for the future, and right now, she had more than enough to deal with.

She reached out to the workarounds in the Manor wards, the ones she didn't use often because it might take as long as thirty seconds for the wards to repair themselves after they were used, and Apparated out.

* * *

Narcissa sighed and blinked, forcing the swirls of red away from her vision. As she had suspected, one of her most generally useful spells was useless at the moment. It was meant to detect hostile intent towards a specific person.

Right now, most of Hogwarts hated Harry.

Narcissa slipped into one of the passages that she had cut through the rock of the castle walls, branching off a passage that had been there already. This one brought her most of the way up the Astronomy Tower, near the quarters that had been hers when she was playing Astronomy apprentice last year. She walked quietly through the corridors, avoiding the groups of gossiping students as if she was really the shadow under the torches that they took her for.

That didn't mean she couldn't listen. And she picked up useful information as she moved.

"Potter _must_ have done it, he always wants to be the center of attention—"

"He said someone else must have done it. Who would have done it for him? You know none of the older students would have wanted to give up their chance to be chosen!"

"Yeah, I think he's lying. He did the same thing about why he was on the Quidditch team in first year, after all."

Narcissa shook her head and passed into the shadows that surrounded the corridors outside Gryffindor Tower. That walk had told her what the other students thought, but, of course, little of what was _really_ going on. They had not paid attention, or they would know that Harry hated his fame and would never have willingly competed in the Tournament.

She waited until she heard a large group of Gryffindors coming, and stepped off to the side so they wouldn't slam into her as they went into the portrait. Their password was spoken loudly enough to echo off the walls, and Narcissa snorted soundlessly as she slipped in after them. "Truth." Of course.

 _As if most of them would know the truth if it stabbed them in the stomach._

The common room was filled with tight knots of students. Narcissa toured around the shadowy corners, and found that they all seemed to be discussing different aspects of what they called the "Potter Problem." Some of them wanted to prank Harry. Others wanted to simply give him the silent treatment and wait until he started acting "like a real Gryffindor" again. Some thought they should bargain with him until he revealed the secret of how he had got past the Age Line, and then prank him.

Narcissa sighed a little as she made her way up the stairs to the room that the fourth-year Gryffindor boys would be sharing. Unfortunately, Harry's skills weren't up yet to a sustained fight with so many opponents, or she would have encouraged him to take care of matters that way.

The curtains of his bed were drawn. Narcissa cast a spell that would tell her the life-forms in the room, and nodded. Harry was behind those curtains, and the only other living thing here right now was a small plant next to what was probably Neville Longbottom's bed. Narcissa strode over and charmed the curtains open.

She approved of the speed with which he took a knife out, at least.

"You should have told me the instant someone entered you in the Tournament," she said, and sat down in front of him, hands folded in her lap. "Why didn't you?"

Harry stared at her, his eyes shadowed and his hand still clutching the knife. Then he laid it down and glanced aside.

"You know as well as I do that refusing to talk does not work with me," Narcissa said, and settled herself in to wait. She watched as his cheeks flushed redder and redder. His eyes also kept darting to the door of the bedroom. He was probably imagining what would happen if one of the other boys came back and found his foster mother sitting on his bed.

Narcissa smiled, and waited.

Harry finally exhaled and said, "Draco—Draco doesn't believe me when I say I didn't put my name in the Goblet. I was afraid that you would side with him."

Narcissa blinked, once, letting her eyelids rise and fall until her lashes brushed her cheek. She had to do that to acknowledge the shiver of anger that passed through her. Then she said, "Why is that?"

Harry stared at her as if she had gone mad and declared her intention to follow the Dark Lord. "Because he's your son?"

"That does not mean I will always believe him, any more than I always believed his wild tales when he was a child." Narcissa looked straight at Harry, and waited until he looked back. Harry was too direct a person not to do that after a certain point—another reason Narcissa had taught him to defend himself with knives and spells instead of lies. "I wish you had written to me. And told me what you think happened."

"It has to be someone else who did it. Who put it in, probably in the name of a different school. There were supposed to be only three sets of papers, one for Beauxbatons and one for Durmstrang and one for Hogwarts." Harry faced her with his trembling arms wrapped around his knees. "I didn't do it. I _didn't_."

"I know you didn't."

Harry relaxed all at once, his head drooping forwards. "How did you know?"

"Because you would never have done such a thing when you knew you had to face me."

Harry flushed like Draco had at the train station before they got on the Hogwarts Express, and nodded. "Well, that's true. Um. I suppose that I should have told you—"

"Yes."

"But it's too late to change anything now, anyway. The Headmistress told me that there's a magical contract binding people chosen by the Goblet to compete. That's why they were so careful to restrict it to people who are of age, mostly. They're going to be risking their lives if they're chosen."

"Which means you will be risking your life."

"Yes."

"Not for long." Narcissa patted his shoulder and stood up. "Thank you for telling me the truth, Harry. While I wish you had done so at once, I also understand what held you back."

"What are you going to do, though? Since you can't keep me from competing in the Tournament." Harry squinted at her.

"I'm going to make sure that you're safe," Narcissa said. "And not risking your life. I told you once that I will not have you doing that until you are an adult and no longer under my protection."

"But no one knows what the Tasks are ahead of time. Are you going to find out and tell me?"

Narcissa chuckled a little. It heartened her that he recognized how much within her power that was. "No. Think about it, and you may understand in time." She kissed Harry on the forehead, wrapped the shadows around herself again, and slipped out of the room.

It was time to call on her contacts from Beauxbatons, where she had once wanted to send Draco. There was a particular professor who would do much to avoid having her fetish for chicken feathers exposed.

And then Narcissa would do something to…take care of the problem.


	9. Narcissa Tournamental, Part Three

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Three_

Narcissa studied her son for a moment, then nodded. She had long since observed that most people were not at their handsomest when they were hanging upside-down in a net. She was glad of the chance to test that observation out on her son and note that he also proved her general theory.

Even if the circumstances under which he had proved it were not the best, at least they were mostly harmless.

Narcissa paced over in front of him and stopped. She had rigged this net in a dungeon corridor that led to the kitchens and which she knew from last year only Draco regularly traveled. "Draco," she said sadly. She was still under a Disillusionment Charm, and he thrashed comically trying to find her. "Why did you not believe Harry?"

"But he put his name in the Cup!"

"I am glad to see you always ready to argue," said Narcissa mildly, in a tone she knew conveyed the exact opposite, and watched Draco freeze. "What proof do you have that he would put his name in the Cup? It must be strong, to go against Harry's sworn word."

"But _everyone_ wants to be part of the Tournament! I would have done it, if I could have got past the Age Line!"

Narcissa cocked her head. _Oh, dear._ Luckily, Draco had fallen silent, too, as if he had just thought about how _she_ would take his words.

"Then it appears that I have failed lamentably in teaching at least two of my lessons," Narcissa said in a voice that was almost a ritual chant, shaking her head so that her hair swished behind her. "Harry didn't learn that he could write to me about anything, and I would believe him. And you didn't learn that you shouldn't rush into danger."

"But, I mean—that was just Harry. He's in danger all the time, so you're trying to teach him not to—"

"I meant it for you, too, Draco. Or do you think I would be happy if I had to come to the school to identify my son's mangled corpse?"

A long silence. Narcissa paced back in front of the net, and watched Draco's face. Even though it was scarlet from all the blood rushing to his head, he looked stricken. "I—didn't think of it that way."

"Of course you did not. This Tournament affair seems to have a great deal of _not-thinking_ to go around."

Draco sighed. "All right. So—you spoke to Harry? You believe him when he says that he didn't put his name in the Cup?"

"Of course I have, and of course I do. And I expected better of you, Draco."

She saw him flinch and swallow, and nodded in satisfaction. If her estimate of his character was right, then she would need to give him no more scolding than that. The humiliation of being held upside-down in a net wasn't something Draco would easily discount. And it shouldn't take more than this to make him apologize to Harry.

"I—all right, Mother."

"Good boy." Narcissa unraveled the net with a spell that set him gently back on his feet instead of dropping him, and bent down to kiss his forehead. Since he was looking so contrite, she decided she could offer him a sop to ease his conscience. "Besides, the Tournament is about to become much less exciting to compete in."

Draco stepped back and stared in her general direction with wide eyes. "You're going to kill the competition?"

Narcissa made herself visible and shook her head. To her, it seemed obvious what the best course would be to make the Tournament less dangerous, but amusingly, it didn't seem to have occurred to either Harry or Draco. Harry had thought she would tell him the Tasks, which wouldn't mitigate the danger. And here Draco was thinking she would kill mere students, not a challenge to her and not the real enemies. "Of course not. I am going to do something else."

Draco kept frowning at her. Narcissa waited a few moments to make sure that he wouldn't suddenly come up with the answer, but when he didn't, she smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "I expect to hear that you've made up with Harry."

"Of course."

Draco continued to watch her with concerned eyes as Narcissa waved one hand and vanished back into the shadows. She had one more person to visit before she went home and began sending owls to the professor at Beauxbatons. She would probably send them with chicken feathers tucked into the envelopes. It would make her more inclined to cooperate.

 _In more than one way._

* * *

"Severus. I am so disappointed that you're spreading the rumors that my son would have put his own name in the Goblet."

Once again Narcissa was in the guise of Lily's ghost, and once again Severus jerked and turned around to stare at her. But this time, he didn't immediately cringe as he had last time. "He is an arrogant _brat_ ," he whispered. "I know you loved him, Lily, but even you can't help but admit what he is."

 _Loved._ Interesting, Narcissa thought, that he believed maternal love died when the body did. "I see the truth. I know the truth. Harry did not put his own name in the Goblet."

"But _who would have?_ The other Hogwarts students all want to compete. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang want to win themselves, no one at those schools would try to increase the competition—"

Narcissa interrupted him with a cold stare. "Who has been behind most of the troubles in Harry's life so far, Severus? And in your own for that matter," she added. To retain a hold over Severus, she had to show some sympathy for him as well.

It was remarkable to watch how fast his face changed to the color of old cheese. "The Dark Lord?" he whispered.

"You _can_ be taught."

Severus shook his head and clutched his left arm for a second. Then he said, "But which of the Dark Lord's servants would have access to the castle?"

"Remember that the protections here could hardly keep out someone with a Dark Mark, Severus," Narcissa said, in the low, illusory voice that she had chosen to project as Lily Potter's. "The Headmaster had to adjust the protections so that you could teach here, didn't he?"

Severus nodded absently. Then he said, "But _which_?"

"He used a spell that obscured the matter even from my sight. But you are an experienced spy, Severus. Surely you can find out?"

His face formed quickly into strong lines, and he nodded. "I will do this for you, Lily. And I cannot—" He hesitated. "I can't suddenly tell my Slytherins that I believe Potter didn't put his name in the Goblet. But I can stop spreading the rumors myself, and stop tormenting him."

"Thank you, Severus." Narcissa bowed her head. She would not blame Severus for the actions of others. If they proved troublesome enough to Harry in themselves, she would handle them. "I will leave you to it, then, and—and thank you." All it took was a slight break in those words and a certain hesitation right afterwards to convince Severus she was the spirit of his dead love.

Severus looked up at her with eyes shining in devotion. It was a disturbing sight. Narcissa wondered absently if that was among the reasons that Lily had ended up marrying Harry's father.  
"I promise, Lily. I will do as you ask. I have never had anyone to live for other than you…"

And on and on he went. Narcissa had to float there, smiling absently, acting as though this declaration was for her. She was glad when she could finally nod and say, "Then show that devotion to my son, Severus. Farewell," and seem to float through the wall.

Severus took several loud, deep breaths behind her. Narcissa left him to his private mourning rituals. Honestly, mourning had never been of any interest to her.

* * *

 _Dragons._

Narcissa leaned back from the Beauxbatons professor's letter and tapped her wand against her lips. Lucius looked in at the study door, but shrank back when he saw her with her wand out.

"What is it, Lucius?" Narcissa kept her voice soft and friendly. She preferred that her husband not be _too_ afraid of her. He might simply run to the Dark Lord if he was, as a threat he could understand and perhaps counter.

"No—nothing important." Lucius dropped his gaze before her impatient stare. She as well as he knew that he wouldn't have bothered her for something unimportant. Lucius cleared his throat uneasily. "My—Dark Mark is so black now that I can see it shining through white shirts."

"Well, make sure to wear darker shirts and robes," Narcissa said, but she stood and beckoned him. Lucius held his arm out to her with a little sigh. Narcissa hid her smile. Honestly, while she still couldn't believe Lucius had chosen an insane monster to follow, it surprised her less that he _had_ become a follower. He needed someone to take care of him and show him the right way.

Narcissa peered at the Dark Mark, careful not to touch it. Yes, the flesh was raised and shiny and a dark, sickening purple, much different than the flat bruise-like mark it had turned into during the years of the Dark Lord's absence. She nodded. "From now on, I want you to wear a bandage above it when you're at home."

"So he can't extend his influence outside the Mark," Lucius murmured, and relaxed with a sigh that ruffled the lace collar of his robes. "Thank you, Narcissa."

"I'll also need you to handle the affairs of the business and any letters from Draco or Harry for the next week," Narcissa went on briskly, stepping away from her husband to go to the desk and make sure papers were in order. "You know where to put the official requests for assassinations. I'll be traveling and moving quickly by Apparition and International Floo. Owls would have a hard time catching up with me."

"Why are you going?" Lucius said, and at least he didn't whimper when he said it.

"To make sure that the First Task can't hurt Harry, of course," Narcissa said, and went to pack practical outdoor robes and cloaks. She knew the dragons hadn't been moved to Hogwarts yet. That made her job harder, because she had no way of determining for sure what kinds of dragons would be used in the First Task.

 _But someone who wants an easy job should not have become a mother._

* * *

Narcissa sat calmly in the stands built for the First Task, in the section reserved for close friends and family of the Champions. Draco was fretting next to her, his eyes locked on the Forbidden Forest where the dragons had been placed.

"His Gryffindor friends are still giving Harry a hard time."

Narcissa sighed a little. "There's less I can do about that." She knew at least the Longbottom boy and the Granger girl believed Harry, and honestly, if his only loss was the Weasley boy, Narcissa would count it a small one.

The Champions walked into the tent that would hold them until they were all ready, separately, to face their dragons. A few other people entered it, like Ludo Bagman. Narcissa had to smile when she realized none of those people were Dragon-Keepers. And, in fact, the Dragon-Keepers still outside the Forbidden Forest were getting summoned into it in large clumps, via whispers and shouts and waving arms.

Draco noticed in enough time that Narcissa didn't have to feel ashamed of her teaching, and he frowned. "What did you do to the Dragon-Keepers, Mother?" he murmured.

 _At least he is wise enough to know the work of my hands when he sees it._ "What makes you think I did something to the Dragon-Keepers, darling?"

"They're running around like a bunch of Hufflepuffs after an escaped Flobberworm."

Narcissa chuckled. As long as Draco could recognize there might be danger in Hufflepuff when it was needed, then she didn't mind the occasional disparaging remark he made towards them. "It wasn't them."

"Then what—" And Draco's mouth sagged and he stared at her.

Narcissa winked, at the same moment as a group of Dragon-Keepers came marching out of the Forest like a funeral cortege and made for the Champions' tent. They proceeded to drag Bagman out and have an intensely whispered discussion, accompanied by more flailing arms. Draco didn't notice. He was too busy staring at her.

The waving and whispering had progressed to shouting, and Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion, went so far as to stick her head out of the tent and frown. The Dragon-Keepers and Bagman didn't notice. By now, Bagman had joined in the arm-waving, as if it were the obscure Muggle ceremony Narcissa remembered reading about them doing before games.

"Mother, you _didn't_ have. You _couldn't_."

"Oh, of course I couldn't kill them, Draco. They're innocent in and of themselves. But I couldn't allow them to be used as weapons to hurt Harry, either."

"But you couldn't—wait, that week you were gone. What did you _do_?"

Narcissa sat and smiled.

By now, everyone in the stands was craning their necks to figure out what all the fuss on the Dragon-Keepers' side was about. Bagman made a motion of despair and came trooping to stand in front of the audience, his face so hangdog that Narcissa would have felt sorry for him if he wasn't one of the people putting Harry in danger. As it was, she knew exactly how she would kill him if she got the chance.

"It, um," said Bagman. Then he cleared his throat and cast the _Sonorus_ Charm a second time, since his voice had been almost entirely overwhelmed by the crowd's shouts and questions. "It appears that the dragons we intended to use for the First Task are, um, asleep. Yes, asleep and cannot be awakened." He glanced around as though someone would appear from the side and rescue him. But no one did, and the shouts increased, so Bagman had to continue. "The Dragon-Keepers have tried every method they can think of to awaken them. It—well, it didn't work. So. Um. We have no First Task. The Champions will be returned to the school until—"

This time the jeers and outright screams were so loud there was no point in Bagman continuing. He finally threw his hands up and returned to the tent. This time, Narcissa saw Harry peeking out. He looked at her, and Narcissa tipped her head and smiled.

"But they were awake when they got here," Draco said, his voice low. "Or someone would have noticed before now. And dragons aren't really vulnerable to sleep spells, anyway. What did you _do_ , Mother?"

"Dragons aren't vulnerable to sleep spells or most Stunners," Narcissa agreed. "Which is why the Dragon-Keepers always have to Stun them working together. But they _are_ vulnerable to contingency spells. I placed one on the gates of each large dragon sanctuary, so the dragons would become affected by them as they passed through. If the dragons came close to a large enough crowd of children and teenagers, they would go to sleep. They'll wake and be fine once they're taken away from Hogwarts."

Draco blinked. Then he said, "You went to _every_ dragon sanctuary? Every big one in the world, I mean?"

"Hence why I was gone for a week," Narcissa reminded him dryly. "Yes. It would have been easier if I could have waited or if I knew for certain which kinds of dragons were being used, of course. But if I had put them to sleep too early, I chanced Bagman and Crouch and the rest coming up with a new Task I couldn't prevent. And not even the one I learned about the Task from could tell me which sorts of dragons they would choose. They may have left the choice entirely to chance, at the last minute. I would have."

Draco only looked at her. And looked. And looked some more. Narcissa began to raise her eyebrows. Not speaking was one thing, even being startled, but he was beginning to look like a gormless fool.

Draco removed his eyes from hers and cleared his throat. "Sorry, Mother. I simply—how in the _world_ did you come up with a plan?"

"That is one of the advantages of the discipline," said Narcissa, smiling at Harry again as he caught her eye and then moved towards the school. "Accepting defeat is impossible. Therefore, one finds something that is not defeat."

Draco followed her gaze, and for a moment, his eyes softened. Narcissa sat back smugly.

Then Draco looked at her and asked, "And what about the other Tasks that they intend to have the Champions face?"

"I shall handle them, too."

This time, Draco heard the implied _of course_ floating in the air. And he smiled the way she had always meant him to smile. "I have every faith that you will, Mother."


	10. Narcissa Tournamental, Part Four

Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the second-to-last part of _Narcissa Tournamental_ ; there will need to be one more. I hope you're enjoying it.

 _Part Four_

"Weasley finally did forgive him," Draco said.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows slowly as she studied him. Draco had sent her a letter saying he urgently needed to speak to her by Floo, and Severus had let him use the Floo in the Potions professor's office. But now that he had her here, all Draco seemed inclined to do was chatter about meaningless gossip that he could easily have put in a letter.

"Draco," she said, when he opened his mouth again. "Tell me why you wanted to speak to me by Floo—the _real_ reason—or I will leave."

The flush that surged up her son's pale cheeks was definitely something he had inherited from his father. Narcissa had never blushed after she understood the ways of the world.

"There's a Yule Ball coming up," Draco said, and his fingers fidgeted with his sleeves. "I—all the Champions have to attend it. They all have to bring a date. The other people who can attend it are fourth-years and up."

"And?" Narcissa imagined that he wanted to go with Harry, but that was still not something he had needed to Floo his mother about.

"Harry hasn't asked me! He was talking about how awful it was to have to dance with someone when he can't dance that well, and he looked past me and said maybe some girl in Gryffindor would take pity on him and ask him. Or maybe he would try to get his Granger to go with him. Not _me_!" Draco folded his arms with a dramatic swish.

Narcissa fought to keep from smiling. She said, "Do you envision yourself in the position of a Gryffindor girl swept off her feet by the Boy-Who-Lived, Draco?"

"Wha—of _course_ not!"

"Then ask him. He has to go. He doesn't want to do the asking by himself. Surely you are the next logical choice, when you want to date him?" Narcissa watched with interest as the flush on her son's face deepened from rose to apple.

"I want _him_ to ask _me_!"

"That sounds like you being in the position of the Gryffindor girl you denied being, Draco."

"It's just—" Draco stared at her. "I _want_ him to actually _choose_ me, not go with someone who's second-best because he's too afraid to ask me! Or maybe he doesn't really want me, but I don't think that's true—"

"I am sure it is not. However, in this case, the fear of asking holds him back and makes him recoil from the humiliation. After the way he has been humiliated at the hands of the entire school for supposedly making himself Champion, I can understand why he feels this way. So this once, Draco, I think you must do the asking. Harry will have other chances to sweep you off your feet and show you how much you mean to him."

Draco was turning the color of a tomato now. " _Mother_."

"You were the one who wanted to discuss this," Narcissa said. She truly could not understand Draco's position. If Harry had been more confident and more prone to put himself forwards, then yes, it would make sense for Draco to wait until he asked. But he wouldn't, so Draco had to. It was what Narcissa would have done if she was that age and someone she fancied wasn't up to asking her. He wouldn't have what he wanted unless he strove for it. Surely she had taught her blood son that lesson as well as her adopted one?

"I don't—I want him to choose me!"

"He will choose you in many important ways, ways that matter, in the future. Are you going to sulk about this one all your years together instead of making one choice on your own?"

Draco shut the Floo down. Narcissa rolled her eyes. She would make sure to tell Draco that she didn't want to hear anything about the Yule Ball in the future. In his hands lay the power to change it, and he had thrown it away.

Narcissa had little respect for such people.

* * *

"Harry went with _Patil_."

"Which one?" Narcissa asked idly as she studied the cauldron in front of her. It was swirling with blue and silver, so bright that it looked as if the liquid were starred with molten metal. If this worked, then it would solve the problem that currently confronted her about the Second Task. If not, then she would have to find another solution.

And she would have to make sure that she had _enough_ of the potion, too. Which meant creating enormous batches of it, and then creating some more for this cauldron, because of course she would have to test some of this on the small tank of goldfish swimming contentedly next to her.

"Mother, aren't you _listening_?"

"No. I told you that I didn't want to hear any more about the Yule Ball, Draco." Narcissa finally decided that standing around and waiting would be useless. She dipped her ladle into the cauldron, scooped up a precise amount of both silver and blue potion, and then walked towards the aquarium.

"You don't _care_ about me!"

Narcissa turned around and poured the ladle into the aquarium at the same moment as she caught and held Draco's eyes. "I love you very much," she said to him, and he opened his mouth a little and listened. "But that does not mean I can do all things for you, Draco. I advised you on what to do about the Yule Ball. You didn't want to listen."

"I just want him to choose me."

"Over what?" Narcissa supposed she should have asked that question before. Harry _had_ chosen to stay with Draco and be friends with him over the protests of his Gryffindor friends, and while he had wavered during second year, he had never done so since. He had told Draco the truth about not putting his name in the Goblet. He had done what he could to protect him, and he was training with some of Narcissa's same goals in mind.

Draco opened his mouth, then paused. Narcissa nodded and began to write down notes as she watched the potion affect the water in the aquarium, but not harm the goldfish.

"You have to think about that, Draco. There are things he can do to show that you are special, but he has done some of them, and they are not enough. What is it you _want_?"

Draco said nothing, but the Floo shut down again. Narcissa smiled in satisfaction and turned back to watch the goldfish darting around and pushing their noses curiously against the bounds of the much smaller area.

The potion should work. Now, for the tedious task of brewing some more.

* * *

" _Mother_."

Narcissa turned her head and smiled. Even the cold whip of the February wind past her cheeks couldn't dim her cheerfulness. "Yes, darling?"

Draco stared at her morosely. Around them, the people who had chosen to run the Triwizard Tournament were once more arguing: Crouch with Bagman, Karkaroff with McGonagall, Madame Maxime with Hagrid, for some reason. Narcissa shook her head. What a disappointment McGonagall had turned out to be. Narcissa saw no reason to kill her yet, but she seemed to think that blithely putting Harry in danger was an acceptable outcome, rather like Dumbledore.

"You did this." Draco's voice was small and muffled as he stared at the shadow hovering overhead.

"Yes, darling."

"If you had just _let it go_ ," Draco hissed so hard that Narcissa turned to look at him with mild surprise, "then this could have been a chance for Harry to show that he _chooses me_."

"He can show that any time he wants," Narcissa countered, and reached out to smooth her hand through Draco's hair. Draco only moved angrily away, beginning to stomp around the shore of the lake.

Or what had been the lake.

Narcissa felt her own smile crook her mouth, and she looked up.

Overhead hovered the gigantic ball of the congealed lake, filled with darting fish and grindylows and waving weeds and piled rocks and the merfolk, who watched the wizards with the kind of fascination that Narcissa usually used to look at her own aquarium. She had harmed none of the creatures in the lake. She had simply dumped in gallon after gallon of her potion, which was water-based and full of harmless ingredients otherwise, and which made the water droplets want to stick to each other and fly.

"What are we going to _do_?"

Narcissa deigned to pay attention to what other mortals were saying again. Ludo Bagman had given up shouting at Crouch and was staring hopelessly at the water, shaking his head a little. Crouch stood next to him with his hands folded behind his back, his face blank stone.

"We said that we would skip the First Task and make the Second and the Third worth twice as much," Bagman was rambling. "But now that the Second Task is impossible, too…" He turned around and stared hard at McGonagall. "You should know everyone who's on your grounds, madam!"

"Right now? With all the other students coming and going from the school, and family members of the Champions wanting to be admitted, and Dragon-Keepers here, and Aurors?" McGonagall scowled at Bagman, her pointed hat slipping down towards one ear. "I am lucky to recognize my own _students_ at this point."

"Well, someone is obviously disrupting the Tournament!"

Narcissa tuned out the argument again and turned to catch Harry's eye. Harry gave her a small grin and then glanced off to the side. Narcissa followed the track of his gaze, expecting to see either Weasley or Granger there.

No. Instead he was looking at Draco, with enough love and longing to satisfy even a proud mother who thought her baby boy deserved the best.

Narcissa smiled. She could tell Draco this, but she doubted he would believe her. It would have to wait on some open gesture that Harry made, some method of choosing him that even Draco couldn't mistake.

Narcissa strolled away, whistling softly under her breath, and contemplating how she was going to disrupt the hedge-maze that her contact at Beauxbatons had told her was the Third Task.

* * *

Narcissa paused. She had come to the Quidditch pitch, where the hedge-maze had started to grow, and was placing withering spells that would keep the plants from taking root. There were other magics woven through them that would put any dangerous magical creature or human that entered them to sleep.

But now she had heard something. And although she wore a complicated charm that allowed her to blend into the shadows, it was not _impossible_ for someone to see her. The last thing she wanted was to be found out and have Harry endure even more isolation because his foster mother had disrupted the Tournament.

She slipped quietly towards the sound, on the other side of the Quidditch shed. It repeated itself, small and wet. Narcissa raised her eyebrows. Perhaps she would simply find a snogging couple too wrapped up in each other to notice her.

She did. And they were Draco and Harry.

Narcissa smiled to herself and slipped back to withering the hedge-maze. It seemed that Harry had finally either made his "choice" or they had shouted at each other until the truth had come out. She could imagine either scenario, but she would never ask them.

It was enough to know that things were working out.

* * *

" _This is ridiculous_!"

Narcissa raised her eyebrows politely from where she was sitting in the stands a short way behind and above Minister Fudge. "Please, sir, what do you mean?"

Fudge turned to her, scowling so hard that he didn't even remember the instinctive deference he showed Lucius most of the time. "The maze for the Third Task is not—responding as expected," he said through gritted teeth. "We have no place to shelter the obstacles and magical creatures and deadly spells we were planning on using!"

Narcissa smoothed down her robes over her legs and lowered her eyes. "Well," she murmured, "I hope that you will excuse me for celebrating. I was _not_ looking forward to seeing my foster son shoved into the middle of a dangerous situation he did not choose for himself."

Fudge instantly turned a little pale and coughed. "Ah, yes, of course, Mrs. Malfoy," he stumbled out. "I—of course you would be concerned for his safety. But it was just going to be a little challenge to the Champions, you know. A challenge to see who was worthy of everlasting fame and glory!"

"My foster son already has all the fame he would need," Narcissa said softly, lifting her gaze and her eyebrows in the same moment. " _Ever_. And he is rich enough not to bother with a thousand Galleons. You had no reaction to the announcement that he did not choose this situation, Minister."

"I—er, of course, conflicting reports—well, Mrs. Malfoy, I mean," Fudge chose to bluster, "say someone else _could_ have dropped his name in the Goblet of Fire. Who would it _be_? Not even young Mr. Potter has managed to track someone down or say who he suspects!"

Narcissa nodded calmly. She suspected it had been a Death Eater who had assumed a Polyjuice disguise to sneak into the school and then departed as soon as that was done. "Believe me, Minister, we are working with Harry on proving it. But I can only be glad that someone is protecting my ward from danger. If he has a mysterious enemy, can he not have a mysterious protector?"

"A mysterious enemy!" Fudge, as usual, latched on to the least important part of the statement and beamed at her while sweat continued to streak down his face. "Yes, yes, that makes much more sense than—than You-Know-Who!"

"We _don't_ know who, Minister. That is precisely the problem."

Fudge gave up on the conversation as a bad job and muttered some platitudes as he turned away to address Bagman. Narcissa smiled at the wilted remains of the hedge-maze, and then Draco nudged her abruptly in the ribs and pointed.

"What's Professor Sinistra doing, Mother? She looks awful."

Narcissa stared at Aurora with a frown. Draco was right. She was sweating and pale as she walked forwards, her arms clasped around a large golden cup. The cup glowed at the top as though it was overflowing with flames, and for a moment Narcissa thought McGonagall had asked her to bring out the Goblet of Fire for some reason. Perhaps they intended to choose a new Task that they could ask the Champions to risk their lives at.

But instead, Aurora thrust the cup towards Harry with a jerky movement. "This is for you," she said, barely moving lips that looked numb. "The one who would have been the true winner of the Tournament, if we could hold it."

Harry backed up a step, eyes narrowed, his hand darting down for a knife the way Narcissa had so carefully taught him. But he hesitated, because they were in public, and Narcissa had also taught him not to reveal what he was except under circumstances when he might otherwise die.

Narcissa couldn't make it to the bottom of the stands before Aurora moved the cup again, and Harry's hand brushed it. There was a shimmer and both of them disappeared, pulled away into the whirling colors of a Portkey.

Narcissa checked herself. She couldn't betray her hand here, especially since the one woman she would have wanted to target for hurting Harry was gone entirely. She bit her lip and held still.

Then she said softly, as McGonagall came hurrying up with her hat still askew, "What was _that_?"

"I don't know." McGonagall was almost panting, and she looked honestly distressed, although that wasn't enough for Narcissa. She wanted answers and blood. "I have no idea—why would the Astronomy Professor have a grudge against Harry Potter?"

 _She doesn't,_ Narcissa thought, her mind working quickly through possibilities. _Aurora isn't a Death Eater, or I would have sensed the presence of that particular Dark magic when I was around her last year. No, this is something else. But she goes into debt. I know that. She mentioned owing more people than me when I was her assistant last year. And she could easily have put Harry's name into the Goblet, as well._

That she was in debt to the Dark Lord, or more likely a servant of his, was such a strong possibility that Narcissa had settled the matter to her satisfaction in her mind before McGonagall opened her mouth again.

But that did not tell what she wanted to know most, which was where Harry _was_.

"Did Sinistra say anything?" Narcissa asked, and glanced at the other Hogwarts professors who were closest. Severus, Pomona, and a woman with a pale face and her hands pressed to her mouth who must be the Muggle Studies professor. "About where she was going, or why she brought that cup out to my foster son like that?"

"That was the Triwizard cup," McGonagall said in a dazed voice. "She must have enchanted it into a Portkey, but….I had no idea that she even had permission from the Ministry for such a thing!"

"She didn't." Fudge bustled up, sweating and important. "I'm sure she didn't!"

Narcissa would have answered, but she saw a spasm of pain cross Severus's face then, and his hand move to his left arm. She stepped towards him. She didn't care, at the moment, if he saw something dangerously familiar in her voice or face. She would _Obliviate_ him later if she needed to. "Where is he calling from, Severus?"

The man stared at her. Then he shook his head and said, "I don't intend to answer the call."

"You will. Or answer to me, and Lucius, and all the power of the Malfoy wealth behind us."

She didn't know what threat persuaded him most, or if he was beginning to think about the possibilities of Harry being in the Dark Lord's presence that she was. He inclined his head and reached out to grasp her arm. Then they began to move towards the Hogwarts gates, which weren't far away, anyway, considering how everyone had gathered outside for the Task.

McGonagall said something behind them. So did Draco. Narcissa looked back and smiled at her son, once. She didn't want him to come along. He didn't even have Harry's training to keep him safe, and both she and Severus would be fighting.

The moment that they emerged into the slanting sunlight beyond the gates, Severus Apparated, and took her with him. Narcissa laid one hand on her wand and kept the other firmly fixed on Severus's sleeve.

She was going to destroy the Dark Lord tonight. Even if only a piece of him.


	11. Narcissa Tournamental, Part Five

Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last part of _Narcissa Tournamental_ , but the series will continue after this.

 _Part Five_

Narcissa landed and immediately turned to the side. She hit something made of stone with her hip, but even that was useful, as telling her where one obstacle was. She immediately looked around.

They had landed at the edge of a graveyard. A Muggle one, to judge from the unwavering inscriptions on the stones and the lack of defensive spells Narcissa could sense. She stepped to the side and wrapped the shadows around her.

"Narcissa!"

Severus might hiss and snarl, but he ought to be grateful to her for getting out of the way and not endangering him by remaining near him. Narcissa could see the bubbling, hissing cauldron in the center of the graveyard, next to a crumbling headstone. At least three cloaked figures hovered around it, firing spells at—

A smaller, lithe, dodging figure. Two other dark figures lay motionless on the ground. And something thrashed in swaddling clothes at the Death Eaters' feet.

Narcissa smiled. Harry had done well so far to avoid getting Stunned or otherwise incapacitated. But she knew his luck would run out at any moment. She made her way quickly through the growing dusk towards the battle. Severus lingered behind her as if he wasn't sure which side he wanted to join.

 _An opinion that seems to often plague him,_ Narcissa thought, and managed to refrain from rolling her eyes, although it was a near thing. Severus would have to choose his side after this, and he would regret it if he chose to oppose her and Harry.

Harry hurled a knife at one of the Death Eaters, distracting him, and followed that up with a strong leap and roll that carried him behind the protection of a mausoleum decorated with winged humans. Narcissa paused herself. The Death Eaters were conferring between each other, and as much as Narcissa wanted to let Harry know she was here, she thought what they wanted might be important.

" _He_ wants to be resurrected using the boy's blood," one of them said, in what sounded like a protesting voice.

"But if we can't catch him, then we can't use his blood," said another, folding his arms and shivering a little. "We need our Lord. He can tell us how he wants to deal with the brat. Let's use someone else's blood."

"And how are we going to do the ritual, Yaxley?" demanded one of the others, and almost stomped his foot. "The ritual needs the blood of an _enemy_! I hope you're not suggesting that any of us are enemies of our Lord…?"

The chorus of hasty denials that arose made Narcissa melt backwards. She knew what ritual they were using, now. And she knew that she could not let Harry's blood, or skin, or any other part of him, be used in it.

The Death Eaters seemed to have come to the opposite decision. They were spreading out now, to be able to get on either side of the mausoleum. All of them carried their wands openly, and Narcissa could hear them beginning to mutter nastier spells than Stunners under their breaths.

 _Then they need to die,_ Narcissa thought calmly, and raised her wand. She could cast some powerful spells nonverbally, and that was what she did. The black fog that rushed out of her wand immediately swarmed two of the Death Eaters.

Savage screams emerged from inside the cloud, followed by frightened ones, and then the crunching of bone and the flying of blood. When the cloud dissipated, there were only fragments of skin and some white splinters left.

The other Death Eaters stepped back as one. "There's someone else besides the boy here!" one of them quavered.

 _What geniuses you are,_ Narcissa thought, and glided to a new vantage point. She would have liked to tell Harry she was there, but he might be able to figure it out anyway. She had shown him the Pseudo-Obscurial Curse, although Harry hadn't managed to want to kill someone strongly enough yet to use it.

She ended up behind a small headstone, aiming her wand at another Death Eater's ankles. When she incanted the spell, all the bones in his legs snapped. He fell over screaming and waving his arms, and Harry took advantage of the distraction.

With another hurled knife, he darted out from his hiding space and ran straight towards a golden gleam in the distance. _The cup that brought him here,_ Narcissa thought, shading her eyes to see. He probably hoped that it had been enchanted as a two-way Portkey, and he could use it to escape.

Narcissa could hope the same thing, but she did not survive on hope. She threw a knife of her own, scratching the arm of the nearest Death Eater and forcing him to retreat, and then headed quietly after Harry.

Something reared up in front of him and tugged him down, though. Narcissa managed to see that it was an enormous, shadowy serpent with glowing eyes and snapping fangs. It coiled around Harry and imprisoned his arms as he fought to reach a weapon or his wand.

Narcissa cast a spell without slowing down. The Internal Inferno Curse would burn the serpent from the inside out, but wouldn't harm anything or anyone that it held. She only had to—

The spell caught as a flicker of fire on the snake's tail and then died out. Narcissa was so startled that she stumbled. The serpent flung its head around and hissed at her, the enormous tail scraping back and forth in the grass.

Harry sprang free, but he turned around and stood facing them instead of retreating. Narcissa hissed at him as well as she could when she was neither a snake nor a Parselmouth, but Harry only set his stubborn little jaw and stood there looking as if he would actually continue the battle.

 _I will have to have a talk with him about this later,_ Narcissa thought, and backed up slowly as the snake slithered towards her, feeling behind her with one foot to kick small stones out of the way. For a moment, it occurred to her that she could only have that talk with Harry if both of them survived, but she dismissed the notion impatiently. What was the point of thinking about things that would not happen?

The snake hissed again. Harry went still and stared with wide eyes. Narcissa twisted out of the way of a complicated strike that had started off feinting towards the left.

"She says—she says that she's a weapon of her master, and you can't destroy her," Harry muttered, his voice shaking a little. He paused to recover, and added, "And that you're a foolish human, but I think that part's less important."

 _A weapon—like the diary?_

Narcissa lifted one small shoulder in a shrug. She supposed it explained the way that her spell had utterly failed to harm the snake. But, right now, that was less important than surviving. She had already decided that one strike from the serpent's fangs would mean she was unlikely to live.

The serpent turned back towards Harry, as if she thought him more of a threat now that she knew he was a Parselmouth. Narcissa cast a spell at her, scorching the ground. She had thought of a way to render the serpent harmless for a time if she was indeed like the diary.

When the snake swung around, towering into the air and opening her mouth so that her fangs shot out, Narcissa Transfigured her into a book. The book flopped to the ground, bound in scaled leather and flipping its pages in agitation. Hissing emerged from their turning noise.

Narcissa nodded. Changing the diary into something else with the potion had worked, and even though this looked to be temporary, it would allow them to escape.

She circled around the book and seized Harry's arm, hauling him close. " _Come_. We must—"

A Slicing Spell caught her along the arm. Narcissa grimaced and tugged her sleeve down. Very well, she should have been watching the other Death Eaters around her as well, and not concentrating so intensely on the snake or Harry's battle with it.

Another spell struck her arm, but this one only pulled some blood from the cut and sent it streaming in a long rush towards the cauldron. Narcissa narrowed her eyes as she watched the blood sink into the water. _They must be so desperate for blood of the enemy that they'd use mine not even knowing who I am._

A shape moved near them, and Narcissa nearly threw a curse before it resolved itself into Severus. "I must stay and see what happens next," he breathed to her, shaking his head at the cut on her arm but reserving most of his attention for Harry. "You should go, though. They haven't put up anti-Apparition spells yet."

"They don't think Harry knows how to Apparate," Narcissa said, and nodded. "But you should come with us."

"No. I have to spy—"

"For who or what?" Narcissa felt a little satisfaction as a very old suspicion of Lucius's was confirmed, that Severus had indeed been spying on the Death Eaters. "Dumbledore is dead, and I don't think the resistance that will be forming to the Dark Lord's return needs a spy. I have my own ways of watching him."

Severus stared at her with eyes nearly as wide as the ones he'd shown when he knelt before her in her disguise as "Lily Potter." Then he shook his head. "That can't possibly be right—"

"It is right." Narcissa turned her back and raised a Shield Charm as another Death Eater launched a curse at her. "Now, unless you _desire_ to witness the return of the Dark Lord or the transformation of his snake for some reason, come with us."

Harry had remained still in her grip, but he tilted his head back now and gave Severus a skeptical glance. It seemed to be all that Severus needed to realize that he was being ridiculous. He glared back and began to run with them towards an even larger mausoleum than the one Harry had hidden behind. They would need shelter for the concentration necessary to Apparate.

There was a _whumping_ sound behind them, and Narcissa glanced over her shoulder. She did want to see what the resurrected Dark Lord looked like, even if she wouldn't be facing him for some time.

He was pale and skeletally thin as he climbed out of the cauldron, and a thin swirl of pale hair clung around his face, but only on the sides of his head, so that the middle remained bald. His fingernails seemed to curve like her own did when she was playing the part of Malfoy matron revered by society. His eyes were visible even from this distance, red as her blood had been while he stared across the distance. His serpent, herself again, curled at his feet and hissed in agitation. Narcissa shook her head. She knew that even those eyes couldn't pierce the shadow spell she had wrapped herself in.

But he seemed to see Harry well enough. He hissed something in Parseltongue that had Harry choking and stumbling over his feet.

They ducked behind the mausoleum, and Narcissa seized Harry's arm and hauled him close. She grabbed Severus with the other and then concentrated as hard as she could, wrapping her wandless magic around her. In seconds, they'd Apparated back to the spot outside the gates where she and Severus had taken off from.

They stood there for a second, panting. It was almost intolerably different, in the slanting beams of _this_ sunset, from the one they'd fled.

Narcissa turned to Harry. He nodded to her, knowing what she wanted to hear, and muttered, "He said that I was going to die and he would use all my blood to feed his snake."

"Well." Narcissa smoothed her hand down Harry's arm. "That just shows that he's not very intelligent. _I_ was the one who caused all the trouble for him this evening, so you'd think he'd be threatening to feed _me_ to the snake."

Severus choked. Narcissa looked at him and raised a commanding eyebrow. He shifted a step, then gave a tense nod.

"Harry, please go ahead and find Draco," Narcissa said. "And don't tell him the truth until you're alone and you've put up those spells I showed you over the Easter holiday. If anyone asks before then, just act in shock and say I managed to find you and rescue you from Aurora." In truth, she had not seen Aurors anywhere in the graveyard. She would find her, of course. It would simply take a bit longer.

Harry nodded, a dazed expression on his face. Then he flung his arms around her waist and held on. Narcissa stroked his hair, and heard the low sound of him fighting back against his own sobs.

Then he pulled away and ran towards the school. Having something to do right now, orders to obey, would soften the blow. Narcissa watched him go, and silently increased the number of people she would find vengeance on.

She finally sighed and turned to Severus. He was staring at her with much the same expression as he had been before. She gestured towards the darkness of the road to Hogsmeade. "Walk with me."

He did, his steps tense and his hand always on his wand. Narcissa nodded to his left arm. "How much pain will the Mark give you if you don't answer the summons?"

Severus's eyes twisted up. "Enough," he said, voice clipped. "You could ask Lucius that question."

"Oh, I could, but I also invented a potion that will deaden the pain," Narcissa said, shrugging. It couldn't remove the Mark completely, which was part of the reason she had never introduced it to any other Death Eaters. But it would keep her husband from feeling as if his arm was being seared off.

Severus jerked to a stop and stood staring at her. Narcissa tilted her head in inquiry. "What?"

"How could you do that? I am a Potions genius and have found no solution."

"There are things that are a matter of discipline, training, and books in the Black library," Narcissa said. She felt a shimmer of relief move through her. This was a simpler solution than the Memory Charm or curse she had been thinking would be necessary to make Severus "forget" what he'd seen tonight. "I will give you the recipe if you will swear never to mention to anyone what you saw in the graveyard."

Severus paused. Then he turned so that his back was to the gates and the crowd clustered around Harry—so no one could read his lips, Narcissa noted approvingly—and fixed his gaze on her. "You offer me the recipe instead of some of the potion you have brewed yourself?"

"You would not trust what I had made and want to brew your own in any case. I am setting up a trade that will not waste the time of either of us."

A scant second later, Severus inclined his head. He had an odd, twisted sort of smile, but he chose to use it now. "What am I say if someone connected to the media asks me for reports?"

Narcissa paused a moment before she answered. It was likely that the Ministry, and perhaps others, would cast doubts on Harry's word, just as they had on his statement that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire.

Then again, she had her own plans for dealing with those who were disrespectful to her foster son.

"You may say what you please," she said, "as long as you do not reveal the truth." Her eyes darted to Severus's left arm and back. He would not want to mention, or at least not focus attention on, the fact that he had the Dark Mark anyway. "And as long as you do not mention me being there in any way."

"Agreed, Narcissa." Severus paused, his lips pursed. "I find myself wondering how much of Lucius's success in the Ministry and socially is _your_ success."

"Do continue to wonder," Narcissa told him coolly, and turned away. "I understand that it builds healthy connections in the brain."

She crossed through the gates and into the small crowd of people knotted around Harry and Draco, scattering them effortlessly. Harry, his arm around Draco's shoulders, looked up at her.

He was a raw fourteen-year-old in that moment, not a raw assassin. Narcissa knelt down in front of him and gathered him close. "Shhh," she whispered. "I understand. And I will keep my promises. All of them. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Most of those listening would believe it was a simple platitude to a child, the kind of thing any grieving mother might utter without being able to keep the promise. Harry met her eyes, and reached out, and held on.

Draco did the same thing from the other side a moment later.

Narcissa held them.


	12. Narcissa Rising, Part One

**Narcissa Rising**

 _Part One_

Narcissa stepped back from the Owlery's window and watched the great grey bird she had chosen as her messenger soar away. It carried the potions recipe that she had promised to send Severus. It would enable him to subdue and control the Dark Mark.

She only hoped that he would brew it quickly. From the signs of it, the Dark Lord had already started trying to call his followers back to him. Lucius would have been suffering if not for her quick thinking.

 _But then, that applies to much more than just this particular facet of the war,_ Narcissa thought, heading downwards with a shake of her head. Sometimes it was a mystery to her how Lucius had survived until she entered his life.

Draco met her at the bottom of the steps. He was clutching the _Daily Prophet_. Narcissa sighed, knowing what this would be about. "Let's have tea with honey in the small dining room."

Draco opened his mouth as if he was going to argue, but she had already walked away, so he had to trail after her. He spread out the paper on the table with a thump the instant she sat down, though, and thumped his finger next to a photograph on the front page equally hard.

"What are you going to _do_ about this?" he hissed.

Narcissa studied the photograph. It was a rather good rendition of the moment when she had knelt down to comfort Harry after he had been abducted by Portkey to the graveyard where the Death Eaters waited. His face was pale and his eyes were large, and he was looking at her from within the circle of her arms. Narcissa's own face was hard and calm. No one could see under the surface from the look of it.

Only then did she pay attention to the headline, which was more likely the cause of Draco's anguish. She smiled a little at the implication that Harry was lying, and looked up at Draco as the house-elves brought them their tea and honey. "Do about it? Why should I do something?"

"They all think Harry is lying for fame and attention!" Draco didn't even pour the honey in. Narcissa modeled correct behavior, hoping that this wasn't the beginning of a trend where Draco took after his father instead of her. "You don't want to see him hurt, do you?"

"Oh, no." Narcissa sipped the tea and sighed. "But killing a rumor is not as simple as killing a person."

"Have you even _started_ doing something about it?"

Narcissa smiled as she thought of the second potion brewing in her lab, next to the large, almost pure marble cauldron where the main medium of her vengeance steamed and billowed. "Yes, I have."

Draco paused and sat back in his chair. "If we go back to Hogwarts and everyone believes this…"

"Some of them will," Narcissa replied. "But in a way, this is useful. It enables Harry to sort his true friends from the ones who only pretended to accept him back or believe that he didn't put his own name in the Goblet of Fire. When he hears that they believe the lies, he will turn his back on them forever."

"He said Weasley believes him, not the paper."

"Then we must account Weasley a true friend. No matter _how_ much you hate him, Draco."

Draco scowled into his teacup. Narcissa hid her smile and once again sipped at the tea. Yes, it was delicious and warm with just a tinge of sweetness. She would have to try a diluted form of the second potion on herself to be sure, but she was now sure the honey would mask the taste.

"How long does Harry have to suffer before you can silence them?" Draco whispered.

Narcissa reached out and gently squeezed his fingers. She kept up the hold until Draco relaxed and looked up at her. "Not long," she said. "I am keeping him busy with his training. He doesn't even read the papers now, only listens to your summaries, or mine, of what they say. He needs to remain aware of his enemies' bitterness without allowing it to overwhelm his life."

"Right." Draco distractedly chewed his lip. "But—I want to do something right _now_."

 _Yes, there is Lucius's eager streak._ Narcissa maintained her hold on his fingers, and Draco finally sat back with a little pout. "You have every reason to want to protect him," Narcissa said softly. "I know how much you care for him. But you are only going to make things worse if you rush into this."

"Vengeance that takes a long time is the Slytherin way?"

"I don't know about the Slytherin way," said Narcissa, searching the memories of her schooldays for a moment. "It's _my_ way."

Draco smiled and seemed to relax completely for the first time since she and Harry had come back from the graveyard. "Thank you, Mother." He stood up to kiss her cheek, and left most of his tea on the table in the cup as he marched out of the room, back straight.

Narcissa sipped her tea again. _Yes, definitely strong enough._

* * *

"What is that?" Narcissa asked, nodding to the piece of parchment that Harry was crumpling in his hand. Even if he sometimes messed up the drawings that she asked him to do, of poisonous plants and the like, she didn't want him to destroy his efforts. He could study his mistakes and find a use for them.

"Just a letter Seamus wrote me."

Narcissa took her seat on the other side of the schoolroom table from Harry and closed her eyes. Memories leaped into her mind of the time almost three years ago when she had dressed as a stereotypical assassin to frighten the worthless children in Gryffindor Tower. "His name is Finnigan?"

"Yes. He says—he said he believes the _Daily Prophet_." Harry stopped speaking abruptly again and stared mutinously at the parchment.

"It is unfortunate that he is so stupid," Narcissa replied calmly. "But why are you distressed? You know stupidity is not catching."

"He accused me of being _mad_."

"You are not. It is his loss. And now you know who to sacrifice among the Gryffindors if you ever choose to do so."

Harry stared at her. " _What_?"

"You could use him as bait instead of sacrificing him," Narcissa offered. She understood that, although Harry was absorbing more and more of the discipline she had to teach, there were still certain things about the mindset that were foreign to him. "I understand that not everyone has the need for sacrificial blood rituals at all times. I only use them when I have something difficult and delicate that needs to be done quickly."

Harry looked as if he was somewhere on the far side of laughter. He managed to clear his throat and said, "I won't ever need to use someone in a sacrificial blood ritual."

"You should not rule out a useful thing before you use it. What would happen if you needed a blood ritual to heal someone?"

"I can't think of anyone I would sacrifice—"

"Not even for Draco?"

Harry closed his mouth the little bit he'd opened it. His cheeks were as red as a cut throat. Narcissa politely studied the tapestries on the other side of the room, which showed some of the most prominent family trees, until he regained his balance. Then Harry said, "I wouldn't want to use it, but I would sacrifice Seamus for Draco."

Narcissa turned back to him, pleased to see that his priorities were in the right order. "So would I," she said, which made Harry laugh. "Now. What are you going to do about the immediate problem, which is that one of your roommates believes the _Daily Prophet_?"

Harry sat and thought it through. Narcissa remained in the room in case he had questions about what the discipline would require of him, but Summoned a book from the shelves and began to browse through it. It was too long since she had studied these particular interesting poisons.

"I'm going to write to him," Harry finally said. "And I'm going to tell him what really happened, that I saw Voldemort return. Once. After that, if he wants to ignore me and believe what the idiots are saying, it's his problem."

Narcissa smiled at him. "That is the right answer. Both for the discipline, and for you."

The way that Harry blossomed under her praise was incredible. It made Narcissa wonder if she had been remiss in not killing his relatives, but she _had_ killed the Headmaster, who was the one who had ultimately facilitated Harry's abuse.

Besides, she wanted to save his relatives to be Harry's first victims.

* * *

"I think there's only one answer."

That was the only thing Sirius had said for half an hour. He appeared content to hold his cup of hot chocolate and stare tragically into it.

Narcissa was allergic to tragic stares. She waited until he had shivered and not looked up even when she cleared her throat. Then she flicked her wand and made the hot chocolate leap out of the cup in a shining spray and coat Sirius's face with foam.

Sirius leaped to his feet, shouting. Of course, that made him drop the cup. Narcissa was also allergic to the house-elves cleaning up messes that they didn't have to. She flicked her wand again, and the chocolate that had spilled on the floor flew back into the cup. Then the cup—and the chocolate—deposited themselves neatly on Sirius's head.

There was shouting and dancing, for a while. Narcissa sipped and watched. Sirius finally stopped dancing, waved his own wand to clear away the mess, and sat back down, glaring at her. Narcissa stopped a drop that wanted to turn her white chair dark brown, and arched her eyebrows a little.

"What was that for?"

"Not telling the truth. You have told me there is only one answer as to what Harry's curse scar is, but not what it is." Narcissa leaned towards him and let a little of her true self look out from under her mask. "I want the answer."

Sirius sank back into the chair, incredulous gaze fastened on her. "You are really fucking scary," he breathed.

"Thank you. The answer?"

Sirius looked the other direction, which was another tribute, and finally said, "The only answer that makes sense—along with the dreams that you told me he has and the moments of random anger he's had since Voldemort returned—is a Horcrux."

Narcissa sat still and thought about that. She supposed it _did_ make sense, especially in light of the diary. And the way that her Internal Inferno Curse had failed when she cast it at Nagini, which should _not_ have happened. Yes, the Dark Lord would think of Horcruxes, and would think of the immortality he could gain instead of the costs associated with them.

Narcissa had never heard of anyone making multiple Horcruxes, although she had idly wondered about the consequences. She supposed she didn't need to, now, not when she could see the living proof of the Dark Lord standing in front of her.

"Very well," she said, when enough time had passed for Sirius to start staring tragically at the wall. "Then we must decide what we are going to do about it."

" _Do_?" Sirius gave her a blank look. "We can't _do_ anything about it."

"You haven't convinced me of that yet," Narcissa pointed out, watching him and wondering if he was still being affected by the Dementors. She had hoped that concentration on a way to help Harry would aid in curing him of that, but it didn't seem to have helped so far.

"Well, of _course_ there's nothing we can do! There's never been a living Horcrux before. I _looked_. The only way that you can destroy a Horcrux is to destroy the object it's contained in, and that means—" Sirius choked and spread his hands. "Harry has to die."

"That assumes we want to destroy the Horcrux." Narcissa made her voice as gentle as possible. She didn't want to scold Sirius. The delusions he was laboring under weren't his fault. Azkaban had probably scrambled most of his faculties. "If we don't assume we do, then of course we have more possibilities."

"But—but we have to get rid of You-Know-Who!"

"Voldemort."

Sirius flinched. Narcissa rolled her eyes. "You were _never_ a Death Eater, Sirius. You never bore the Dark Mark."

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"Merely," said Narcissa, with an arch of a brow that she knew was perfectly contemptuous, "that you should have no reason to fear saying his name. Your flinch is exaggerated and perhaps a result of your imprisonment. Pay _attention_ , now."

"But we have to get rid of _Voldemort_." Sirius said it with an unnecessary amount of gritting teeth and sweat on his brow, but they could work on that, Narcissa thought. "We can't just leave the Horcrux in Harry!"

"I never said that we would. I said we aren't going to let him die."

"I don't like it either, Narcissa, but—"

"Do you care more about getting rid of Voldemort than you care about your godson?"

Sirius stared at her, and his fists clenched. "Of course not," he said hollowly. "What I want most in the world is to spend time with Harry and see him grow up into—into the kind of man that I know he could be."

"Then why did you turn immediately to killing him?" Narcissa waited, but Sirius said nothing. "It reminds me of a tactic that Dumbledore might have pursued. I think Dumbledore was on that path, trying to turn Harry into a weapon. He certainly sent him into danger in first year. I put a stop to that."

"How—" Sirius's face turned the color of whey, which was amusing, since it should have been that color already. "You killed him."

"Yes."

"But that—that's not possible."

Narcissa leaned in enough that Sirius could see into the depths of her eyes. "No one is beyond my reach when I'm protecting my own," she said softly. "I've claimed Harry as one of mine, Sirius. You would be wise to put down any plans that you've made to profit from Harry's death."

Sirius shot to his feet and paced around the drawing room. "I would never—do something so _outrageous_ —"

"Good." Narcissa leaned back and smiled at her cousin. "Then we should have no trouble in working together to remove the Horcrux from Harry."

"There's no _way—_ "

"And you have read all the books in the world, of course. All the books in the Malfoy library and the Library of Hogwarts and other collections that we have easy access to."

Sirius spun around and pointed a finger at her. "No, but I'm the one who's spent months studying curse scars. You should damn _well_ believe me when I tell you that I don't think a way exists."

"And I think there does. I have never yet failed at something I set out to do when it came to saving the life of my children or my husband. Or you, for that matter. We are going to work together and get the Horcrux out of him."

Sirius sank back into his chair, shuddering. Narcissa watched him and didn't interrupt. This was something he had to work out on his own.

Finally, he sat up again and said, "I _was_ acting like Albus. Unquestioning belief that someone had to pay the price to get rid of Voldemort. And treating Harry like he wasn't as innocent as someone else. What _am_ I?"

"Affected by the Dementors, dear cousin," Narcissa said, standing and crossing the room to stroke his hair. "It throws you back on the memories of your youth, at least with other cases of innocence that I've studied. It's not surprising that what you believed in your early twenties still has a strong hold on you. But we are going to find a different way."

Sirius swallowed and nodded. Then he looked up and whispered, "Narcissa?"

She nodded in response.

"I'm really glad you're here."


	13. Narcissa Rising, Part Two

Thank you for all the reviews!

 _Part Two_

"It is unusual that you would contact me."

Headmistress McGonagall frowned a little, but didn't let her gaze waver from Narcissa's face. Of course, that was easier through the flames of the Floo connection than it would be in person, but Narcissa would still give her credit for bravery. "We went through Aurora's records to try and figure out what would prompt her to betray us. We found your real name listed beside the name of the Astronomy apprentice from two years ago."

Narcissa tilted her head. "I suppose I should have known Aurora would keep records like that. She is foolish in so many ways."

McGonagall shivered absently. "Can you come and teach Astronomy? We already have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, or I would have come and asked you for that."

Narcissa listened to the tone in her voice and said, "I thought the Headmistress was in charge of hiring for all the positions."

"I normally am, but—we found no candidate by a certain deadline, and the Ministry, in their infinite concern for the education of our children, took over."

Narcissa listened to the words she spat, and the ones she didn't. "And the name of this professor?"

"Dolores Umbridge."

"She was the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister the last I knew. What does she know about teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"From the books I've seen? Nothing." McGonagall's face was flat. "But she does know a _lot_ about teaching Ministry propaganda and encouraging exactly the sort of reactions to the news that You-Know-Who is back that the Minister wants."

Narcissa made the decision. It was going to be hard enough for Harry at Hogwarts this year, with some of his friends disbelieving him. She couldn't leave him alone to face Umbridge's tender mercies. "Then I suppose I had best brush up on my Astronomy."

* * *

"Mrs. Malfoy. It's so wonderful to see you!" Umbridge gushed, holding out her hand. She was smiling in the way that meant she knew exactly how many Galleons Lucius had donated to Fudge's re-election campaign, and also the way that meant she was going to say something nasty in a moment. Narcissa calmly shook her hand and waited for the next statement.

It came. Umbridge's face wrinkled and she put her hand to her mouth as if she'd only now thought of a problem. "Only—are you _sure_ that the foster mother of a student ought to be teaching a class he's in? I could see some problems with fairness and objectivity. And the Ministry is very encouraging of fairness, you know."

Narcissa laughed softly as she sat down next to Umbridge at the table, seeing the way that the students peered at her and tried to pretend that they weren't peering. "I must admit I am surprised, Madam Umbridge. You doubt my ability to be fair to my foster son, but not my blood one?"

From the dull flush mounting Umbridge's cheeks, she had indeed forgotten that Draco was also a student in the school. But she recovered quickly. "You've had Draco since he was a baby, and I'm sure he'll be a credit to you. But the boy telling wild tales to the papers—"

"I can certainly show you his memories in a Pensieve," said Narcissa. "If you doubt him that You-Know-Who has returned."

"Tampered with, I have no doubt." Umbridge gave her a pitying look. "A mother always wants to believe the best of her children—or so I've heard. I wouldn't _know_." She giggled girlishly. "But you have to admit the boy is powerful enough and enough of a traitor to good society to have forged those memories."

"Tell me, my dear Dolores, what do you mean by 'a traitor to good society'?"

The children were marching into the Great Hall now. Narcissa watched from the corner of her eye as Draco took his place at the Slytherin table, and saw Harry take the Gryffindor seat that was directly across from him. She had to smile. They might not announce they were dating for all to hear, but anyone who knew them had to see the exchanged glances and blushes and the occasional aborted gestures.

"I'm sure you've done your best with him." Dolores lowered her voice and leaned closer, expression clear and sympathetic and gentle. "But we all know the truth. Raised by _Muggles_ , I've heard. And that blood mother. He can't help but be a traitor to society in all his blood, no matter what you've done with him in the last few years."

Narcissa moved her wand beneath the table and cast a simple spell on Dolores. Then she shook her head and said, "You're wrong," before she turned back to observe the Sorting. The spell would take her vengeance for her.

And it did. After the Sorting had finished—with fewer Slytherin students than normal, Narcissa noted with a faint frown—and McGonagall had risen to introduce them, Dolores cleared her throat and stood. McGonagall looked furious at being interrupted, but she sat down. Dolores opened her mouth.

What came out was, "I believe Harry Potter that You-Know-Who is back."

Dolores promptly clapped her hands over her mouth, while her eyes bulged. Some of the students murmured; others stared; some did both. Narcissa calmly scooped up a square of cheese and delicately nibbled it to hide her smile.

The Reverse Intentions Curse would make Dolores say the opposite of whatever she really intended. It wasn't an easy curse to figure out or thwart, unless someone honestly managed to change their mind or beliefs. Dolores wouldn't, and she was too stupid to figure out what the curse had been and remove it on her own.

"That is not what I meant to say!" Dolores snapped. For a second, she patted her throat as if she thought she could somehow corral the words that were about to emerge. "Hem, hem. I meant that of _course_ You-Know-Who is back!"

Someone dropped a fork. Someone else shouted, but they were distant enough, at the far end of the Gryffindor table, that Narcissa couldn't make out the words. She leaned back and said, loudly enough that her voice would reach some of the students, "Thank you for the support, Dolores. I am sure my foster son will thank you as well."

"Harry Potter is telling the truth!"

Dolores's face was almost purple. Narcissa nodded. "Oh, I knew that. But not everyone does. That's the reason I wanted to thank you."

"There is _no room_ in our world for people who doubt him!"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Narcissa said in a soft, thoughtful voice. "After all, we need so many people to make up the wizarding world that I don't think it's fair to say we'd ban them. But—"

"I interrupted this dinner for a good reason!" Dolores slammed one hand down amid the plates. "To say that Harry Potter is right!"

"I know, and we _do_ appreciate it." Narcissa caught Harry's eye from where he was staring at the Gryffindor table and winked. "I'm sure Harry would be glad to come to your office later to say so."

Dolores sat back down, her face the color of a boiled brick. Narcissa thoughtfully munched some more cheese.

* * *

"The Ministry won't tolerate interference with the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

Narcissa blinked. She had thought a curious student, probably a Ravenclaw, would be the one tapping on her door, not the Headmistress. She stepped back and shrugged a little. "If you want to come in, Minerva, you can."

Minerva not only did, she turned around and pointed an accusing finger at Narcissa. "I know that you cast a spell on Dolores."

"Why? Certainly she interrupted the dinner for a good reason, you heard her. If she had—"

"She was telling me before you arrived that Harry was a liar and that she would _never_ change her mind on that. And I know her. She's adamant as a Ministry employee. She never would." Minerva moved a step forwards. "I know that you want to protect your foster son. But interfering in the proper course of government—"

"I never knew you were this much of a stickler for the rules, Minerva. You were a Gryffindor, after all."

"Don't you _see_?" Minerva shouted at her, which was unexpected enough that Narcissa let her speak. "If the Ministry starts to suspect that someone _did_ cast a spell on Dolores, then they'll do even more to interfere in Hogwarts!"

"You're concerned for the school."

"Yes." Minerva turned away and stared at the far wall, which had a window that showed an unchanging vision of the constellation Orion. Narcissa was studying the spells that would make it show the constellation Draco instead. "Of course I am."

"And you're willing to sacrifice Harry's reputation and education so that you can save the education of the rest of the students. _I_ see."

"What? I never—"

"Yes, of course you would," Narcissa said, and sighed when Minerva turned to give her what looked like a betrayed glance. " _Come_ now, Minerva. You didn't speak up to say anything when the papers and the Ministry began to slander Harry's reputation. You would have kept silent if Dolores had been able to make her planned speech, which would have continued the slander. I can understand your fears for the school, but not your determination to sacrifice one student for the good of the others. Unless you really do follow Dumbledore's ridiculous beliefs that he should have given up when he was a teenager."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"Oh, so he indoctrinated you, but never told you? He was a friend of Gellert Grindelwald. He believed in 'for the greater good.' I think he still did when he died. Of course, he had decided that Harry was the one who should pay the price."

Minerva's face looked like whey now. "Albus would never have—never expected a child to pay that price—"

"He did." Narcissa shrugged. "It is one reason that I decided to become my foster son's guardian, actually. Harry needs so much more help and protection than most children. Even people on his own side want to sacrifice him."

"I don't."

"No, not his life. Just his reputation."

Minerva folded her arms and glanced away. "The Ministry is threatening to shut Hogwarts down," she said in a low voice. "You—and your children—have a safe home to go to. You cannot imagine how exposed some of our students would be if they had to go back to their parents right now. Particularly since some of their parents are—" She choked.

 _Yes, do remember the Dark Mark on my husband's arm._ Not that Narcissa intended to tolerate its presence much longer. But Minerva was largely unconcerned with that side of the political battlefield and should remain so. "I still don't intend to allow Harry to be a sacrifice."

"But someone from the Ministry is going to notice the change in Dolores!"

Narcissa shook her head. "And what are they going to think, but that she changed her mind on her own? Perhaps that she's even been secretly on Harry's side and got them to give her the position here so she could proclaim it. The worst they'll do is pull her and replace her with someone else. All the consequences will fall on her."

"You cannot have cast an untraceable curse."

"I can do many untraceable things."

Minerva gave her a glance full of unease. "Perhaps I should be glad that you're here to defend the students. But I would feel better if I knew that you wanted to protect someone other than Draco and Harry."

"Well, you are protecting everyone _other_ than Harry. I think that we balance each other out nicely," Narcissa said, and smiled at her.

Minerva couldn't leave her rooms fast enough after that. Narcissa would have changed the constellation in the enchanted window and gone to bed, but an owl winged through the door and landed at her feet with a soft thump. It was Electra, the small black owl who delivered messages for Harry when he didn't want to use his distinctive Hedwig. Narcissa had got Electra for him as a gift on his fifteenth birthday.

The scroll was small. Narcissa unrolled it and read the single line written on it.

 _The Reverse Intentions Curse?_

Narcissa smiled. She was so _proud_ of Harry.

* * *

"Is it true that you can predict the future by the stars, Professor Malfoy?"

Narcissa tilted her head curiously. The question was one that hadn't come up in her classes thus far. But then she remembered Harry saying something last year about how a few Gryffindor girls were far more interested in Divination than sensible fifteen-year-olds should be.

 _Then again, if they were sensible, they might not be in Gryffindor._ Narcissa flicked a strand of hair behind her ear and paced slowly among her students—who were all reclining on top of the Astronomy Tower and searching out constellation patterns with the naked eye—until she reached the student who'd asked. "That is correct, Miss Patil. But it takes both a special gift and special training."

"Professor Trelawney says _I_ have the gift." Patil was a pretty girl, but not when she looked that smug.

"Then perhaps you would not mind writing an essay for me on the patterns that you see when you look up at the stars during our class," said Narcissa. The smugness burned up, but she kept her own face calm and genial. "Say, two feet, due next Wednesday." Patil's silence was suffocating, but Narcissa only nodded at her and turned to walk back towards the center of the Tower.

Harry's shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. Narcissa nudged him gently in the center of the back with her boot as she passed by. She wanted to remind him not to get too smug himself. He _had_ written a question mark after his sentence the other day.

* * *

Dolores Umbridge continued to proclaim her support of Harry whenever she could, and discuss how students needed to learn practical Defense skills in her class. Narcissa wanted to shake her head when she heard that. She'd seen the books that Draco and Harry had to buy, of course, but it was interesting that the Ministry _really_ wanted no spells taught in Defense.

She would have to do something about the Minister soon. Even his sycophancy to Lucius was rapidly being outweighed by his other disadvantages.

She taught Astronomy, and smiled at Dolores when they met at meals, and calmly ignored the Howlers that started to show up with some frequency as Dolores struggled to control her mouth, and failed. Harry had asked if the Reverse Intentions Curse applied even to letters. Narcissa had looked at him calmly, until his face flushed and he realized how stupid he had been to ever question that she would cast a curse the victim could easily outwit.

But the curse did not control all of Dolores's _actions_. And when Harry managed to get a detention with her for instructing someone else in his class on the Shield Charm—well.

Narcissa saw the way Harry averted his eyes from her face in the Great Hall the next day, and simply waited. The fifth-year Gryffindors had Astronomy again that night. And Harry could never lie to her.

Or conceal things from her. Like his hand when he walked slowly and awkwardly into the classroom and tried to slide it under his desk.

Narcissa cocked her head and sniffed delicately. Even if she hadn't been sensitive to the uses of blood magic, she would have smelled the Murtlap Essence that Harry had spread on the wound.

"You can tell me, or I can drag it out of you," she said to Harry in a normal-sounding, low voice as the other students began to arrive. "And then I can decide what I need to do about Dolores."

Harry looked up at her. For a moment, his jaw clenched, and then he said only, "She made me use a blood quill."

"Slow and painful, then," Narcissa said calmly. She was boiling with rage, but she could hide that as always. She turned around to accept the two-foot essay on star divination from Patil. "Thank you, Miss Patil."

"No."

Narcissa turned her head slowly back around. She couldn't even _remember_ the last time Harry had disobeyed her. "What did you say to me, Harry?"

"I said that I want to take care of it," Harry said. His back was straight, and now his hand—clumsily bandaged with cloth soaked in Murtlap Essence—was resting openly on the desk. "That's the reason I hid it from you."

Narcissa breathed out slowly. Given Harry's innate kindness and friendliness, she had been sure that he wouldn't be ready to make his first kill until next year. And then she had been sure it would be his abusive relatives. "You have the necessary drive?"

"I do." Harry's eyes were quiet, but not soft. Narcissa looked into them and guessed the reason before he spoke it. "Draco suffered the same way."

 _And did not come to me?_

Narcissa asked the question without words. Harry cocked his head a little to the side and looked pointedly at the Malfoy family crest that Narcissa wore, without fuss, over her heart.

The message was clear. _You're his mother. He was embarrassed to go to a professor who's related to him._

But of course he wouldn't have kept it from Harry. And now Narcissa had to wonder about the real cause of the detention that Harry had got. And why he had decided to accept it instead of coming to her.

 _Reconnaissance._

Narcissa carefully let loose the hold on her temper. She had to trust Harry at some point, the same way that her own teachers had needed to let her loose to fly in the embrace of the discipline. And she was nearby. If something did go wrong and Harry pulled his hand at the last moment, Narcissa would be there to give the finishing blow.

And with Draco as motivation—another's suffering instead of his own—Narcissa doubted he would.

"Very well," she said, and shooed the curious Patil back to her seat as she went up to the front of the room.

Part of her, watching from a distance, had to admit this would be an excellent test. If Harry couldn't take care of Draco properly, Narcissa wanted to see the proof of that outside a battle situation.

And, of course, she would be nearby. Watching.


	14. Narcissa Rising, Part Three

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Three_

"It was stupid, really."

Narcissa raised her brows in silent commentary, and Draco flushed, looking down as he rubbed at his hand. Narcissa reached out and calmly moved his fingers away from the hand so she could see it. Yes, there were bleeding words there beneath the bandage, which, like Harry's, was soaked with Murtlap Essence.

"Telling me it's stupid doesn't tell me what you did to earn detention with Dolores." Narcissa prepared tea calmly. They were in her private quarters, and no one else was due to come here this evening. She thanked all skill privately that she wasn't a Head of House, with student due to burst in at any moment because they were dating someone, it wasn't working out, and they weren't intelligent enough to resort to knives or poison.

"I was talking to Greg outside class and I happened to be imitating Minister Fudge." Draco sighed and took the teacup with a little nod of thanks. "Umbridge overheard me and gave me a detention for 'accurate portrayal of the government.'"

Narcissa considered the situation, both what it had turned out to be and what the detention would have been for were Dolores not under the Reverse Intentions Curse, and nodded slowly. "Not as bad as it could have been."

"Really?" Draco sat up on his chair and seemed to tremble a little.

Narcissa nodded to him again and gave him a tray of biscuits. At least he waved his wand to check for potions this time, a habit she was trying to encourage him to take more seriously. "Yes. You could have earned detention for openly saying the Dark Lord has returned."

"But I believe Harry."

"Yes. And he _must_ speak it. And so must I. But that is not something I wish for you yet."

"Why _not_? I'm just as brave and I can bear as much pain as he can!"

Narcissa gave him a fleeting glance, and Draco looked down and flushed. "Fine. But I bore this pain and I didn't come crying to you." He waved his bandaged hand in the air. "I only told Harry because he saw me and forced me to tell him."

"I am still waiting for the explanation of _why_ you wished to hide it."

Draco hunched in on himself. Then he said, "I know why you didn't want me to talk about—the Dark Lord being back. There are too many people in Slytherin who might be his supporters. And Harry's in Gryffindor, so he doesn't have to deal with that, and you're a professor and the Slytherin students can't hurt you the same way. But Mother—people are asking me anyway. They've been hexing me and seeing how well I can withstand the pain. I wanted to show you that I wasn't going to whine about _this_ when I hadn't whined about _that_."

"Your telling me the truth is not whining," Narcissa said quietly. "And your giving me the names of the students who hexed you is not tattling."

"But—"

"I am not going to kill the students who did that," said Narcissa, and she frowned a little when she saw the relief on Draco's face. Had she given the impression that she was _that_ ruthless? Then again, she supposed Draco might have forgotten the efforts she had made to spare the Gryffindor students who had taunted Harry in his second year. It was so long ago, for the young. "I want their names for another reason."

"What, Mother?"

"Do you want to know? Keep in mind that a few of your classmates may know Legilimency."

"I'll get better at Occlumency!"

Narcissa studied him and determined that was the truth this time, unlike the summer holidays, when he seemed to inherently resent doing anything except the assigned homework he must do. She nodded. "Very well. I plan to expose their parents as either Death Eaters or Death Eater sympathizers."

Draco's eyes got very wide. "But what if they're only saying it to fit in? Or they don't really believe it even though their parents do?"

Narcissa smiled at her son. A few years ago, she knew, he would have been incapable of that much nuance. Knowing and loving Harry had been good for him. "That is why I need their names. I can investigate more easily then."

"You can even investigate what their parents say to them in private?"

"Your classmates are not the only ones who know Legilimency, Draco."

Draco blushed as she gently drove home the point he really should have known, and nodded. "All right. I just—I don't want anyone to be accused or have their lives ruined if it really isn't true."

"I will determine whether it is or is not, and their parents will suffer the appropriate consequences. There is no true reason for the children to do so, unless they are interested in following the Dark Lord or already Marked."

"There are a few seventh-years I think might be." Draco whispered that truth even here, in her private quarters.

"You can feel the magic around their arms?" Draco nodded, and Narcissa smiled, honestly impressed. That was a talent she had not honed as she should, with her other training and not having a strong gift for it; Draco, not concentrating on the discipline the way Harry was, could now do something she could not. "Wonderful, Draco. Please give me their names, and I will keep a special eye on them."

Draco told her the names, and drank his tea, and ate his biscuits, and only asked his next question when he was ready to leave. "What's going to happen to Umbridge?" he asked quietly, eyes distant, as he stood with his hand on the doorknob.

"She will be taken care of."

Draco abruptly spun around and hugged her. Narcissa blinked and patted his back. She hadn't realized Dolores had so unnerved him.

"Mother, you're wonderful and terrifying," Draco whispered, then rushed off.

 _It is nice to be appreciated,_ Narcissa thought, and went humming to her next task.

* * *

Harry insisted on having another detention with Dolores so that he could scout her office Narcissa disapproved, but he came straight to her for more Murtlap Essence and a few Dark spells that would ease the effects of the blood quill. And he told her what he'd discovered.

"All of those cats can tell her what I'm doing even when she's not there," Harry said, and translated when Narcissa stared at him. "The cats she has on the china plates hanging on the walls. I put down the quill to stretch my hand for a minute while she was in the corridor, and she came back in after I'd picked it up and scolded me for stopping."

While Narcissa was not entirely sure that it was the cats who had told Dolores that and not something else, she had to admit she could find no way to be sure that it wasn't. And it would make Harry take extra precautions that were all to the good.

"She could be a powerful Dark magic user if she wanted," Harry admitted. "I saw her put up a privacy charm when someone Flooed her while I was in the detention. It's one you mentioned, that day when I asked you about blood-fueled magic."

"Ah, yes." Their discussion had been about what blood magic could do other than hurt someone. Privacy charms had been something Narcissa told Harry about, but since he seemed reluctant to perform the small sacrifices needed beforehand, she doubted he would ever use it. "Could you see what she'd killed?"

"No. She must have done it too long before I got there, and hidden the body too well."

Narcissa nodded. As long as she didn't hear reports of any students' pets going missing, she probably wouldn't know what Dolores had killed, either. "Very well. When do you want to make the assault on her office?"

Harry closed his eyes and kept them closed while he carefully rubbed Murtlap Essence into his cuts. Narcissa watched the words until she was sure what they were under the bandages and the motion of Harry's hand. _I must not tell lies._

Well. Dolores would have taken that particular revenge because of being compelled to tell the truth—the objective truth, not the one she chose. Narcissa smiled. She intended to bring the woman down if Harry's conscience floored him at the last minute.

"I'm going to wait until Halloween," Harry decided, and opened his eyes. "No one will be upset with me if I don't want to celebrate that day. I'll just tell them celebrating my parents' murder isn't all right with me."

Narcissa nodded. "And what equipment will you need for the assault?"

As they discussed it, a small owl fluttered through the window and straight towards her. Narcissa opened the message without stopping her part in the conversation. She recognized Sirius's owl, and she didn't think it was urgent.

 _I've discovered a possible means of getting rid of a Horcrux in a living being._

"Well, more urgent than I expected," Narcissa murmured. Since there was nothing else in the letter, she put it aside and made a mental note to write back to Sirius as soon as she could.

Harry had stopped talking. Narcissa glanced at him and elevated an eyebrow. Harry shook his head. "I thought you'd reply to the letter."

"I had to look at it. But whenever you're talking, nothing is more important than you."

Harry's face lit up as if someone had set off fireworks for his birthday. Narcissa wondered, again, how his family could have been so spiteful as to be able to ignore that.

 _Well, Dolores will be excellent practice for them. Perhaps it's best that they won't be his first kills. He would never have managed to make them suffer as they deserve._

* * *

Narcissa sat calmly on a windowsill on the side of the Astronomy Tower, looking towards Gryffindor Tower. When she saw the small shadow coming out of a window on that Tower, she stood and reached up to the brooch at her throat. It clasped her cloak shut, and to the unobservant eye, that was all it did. It was also made of bronze and formed in the shape of a crescent moon, both a metal and a motif so common as not to be worthy of a second glance.

But when she swiveled the brooch to the left, so that the horns of the moon both pointed downwards, she could step confidently off the windowsill and float towards Harry. She felt only a slight bob from the wind. She smiled a little, pleased that it had worked. She had only previously tested that charm a short distance above the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

Harry had slung one leg over his broom, and was watching her come. He grinned at her. "You'll let me do it?"

"I will not interfere unless it seems as if something's beginning to go wrong," Narcissa promised him. She kept to herself what _she_ thought would go wrong, namely, that Harry's tender conscience would prick him. Her statement would still be true if his magic failed or there turned out be more of a problem getting into Dolores's quarters than he'd anticipated.

Harry nodded and closed his eyes for a minute. Narcissa recognized the marshaling of his inner forces and waited quietly. Then Harry opened his eyes and kicked off from the Tower, and Narcissa followed behind him, casting Disillusionment Charms over them both.

Harry landed quietly enough on the windowsill of Dolores's office. Then he took out his wand and began to cast the numerous charms that were necessary to disarm the protections someone as paranoid as Dolores would probably have placed on every entrance. Narcissa floated back and tensed only once or twice, when she thought Harry was going to forget something and then he surprised her by casting it perfectly.

When Harry paused, Narcissa tilted her head. Then she smiled as she saw his strategy. He hadn't confided _everything_ to her.

She nodded, and Harry stopped looking back at her and smashed the window.

The tinkle of glass pieces on the room's floor was nothing compared to the sudden scream that echoed through the corridors. It would sound even louder in Dolores's ears than it did in this section of the castle, Narcissa knew. And it would bring her running from the Halloween feast.

Harry could have set a trap that would kill her later, and Narcissa would have urged that in some cases, but the woman had hurt Draco. Harry cast a Hardening Charm on his cloak and hands and squeezed through the broken window without being cut, dropping to the floor. Then he straightened up and drew out his wand.

His smallness of size was something for which Narcissa would always curse the Dursleys and their withholding of his food, but on the other hand, if not for that, he wouldn't have fit through the window, and he wouldn't have been so lithe and deadly and prone to make his enemies underestimate him. At the moment, he hardly looked threatening, a skinny fifteen-year-old holding a polished holly wand.

Only Narcissa—and Draco—saw him as not skinny, but slender. And _waiting_ was different from merely _standing_.

Dolores burst through the door, panting and more red than pink. She saw Harry and the broken window and slid to a stop, staring. Harry stared back. His eyes were beginning to flare with the power he was calling. Narcissa was the one who had taught him the tactics to call up his magic and hold it in instead of releasing it right away.

"You are here," Dolores said, and she must have just intended surprise, not hatred, because the Reverse Intentions spell didn't activate.

Harry nodded a little. Now Narcissa would be surprised if someone didn't notice the subtle green glow coming from his eyes. But Dolores wasn't in the mood to notice such things at the moment. She might _never_ be in the mood to attribute power to her opponent, Narcissa thought.

She stalked slowly forwards, her stubby wand swinging in her hand. "You are going to pay for telling the truth, Harry Potter." Not even the unwanted truth she was speaking seemed to distress her.

Harry only looked up at her. Finally, Dolores jerked to a stop. Perhaps it was the remote, placid expression on Harry's face.

"What are you playing at, Potter?"

"You have harmed me," Harry said, and his words were ritual in sound. Narcissa smiled slowly. She was _so_ proud of him. "You have harmed the one I love, the one I claim as mine. You will harm more people if left unchecked. I am here to make you pay for that."

Dolores sneered. "You could do that." Her face went pinker this time, and she drummed a hand on her desk. "I _meant_ to say that!"

"Of course," Harry said. Narcissa worried for a moment that the interruption to the ritual would disrupt the power Harry was gathering, but from the way he stood a little straighter and smiled, that hadn't happened. "I am here to execute you."

The magic burst forth and poured from him. The room was lit with a shifting green light that, for a moment, Narcissa could only compare to the Killing Curse. Then she shook her head impatiently. No, of course not. This light was too vivid, too bright. It looked like trees burning with low-intensity fire.

" _Execute_? Little boy—"

They were the last words she spoke.

The green magic sprang out, tracing lines that consisted of the broken glass on the floor—Narcissa hadn't even recognized the pattern Harry had made sure to break the window in—the quills on the desk, and the stones on the floor. Narcissa approved. The entrance Harry had forced, the instruments that had tortured him and Draco in symbolic form, the ground of the place that Harry belonged to and Dolores was an intruder in.

The whole room was flaring now, and Narcissa felt the blowback as another wind even outside where she hovered. Dolores's mouth was dropping open. She looked as if she would begin to scream or hysterically sob in seconds.

But the magic rose up around her, seized her head and her heels at the same moment, and crushed her.

Dolores did scream then, but the sounds were so faint as she began to die that Narcissa didn't think anyone would come to investigate them. She did cast a Silencing Charm at the room's door, because that was the only spell she could manage without looking away from the execution.

Dolores became a smaller and smaller package, muscle and flesh forced to compact size in a tiny, floating ball. She still glowed brilliant pink, but that might be her cardigan more than anything else, Narcissa thought, detached enough to admire Harry's handiwork. By the time the green magic flickered and faded, Dolores was a glittering ball, sharp-edged where the broken bones shone through, and most definitely dead.

Harry took a huge, whooping breath and began to topple over. Narcissa immediately cast a modified Summoning Charm that pulled him out of Dolores's office and back to his broom. The last thing they needed was him leaving some trace that an Auror could pick up.

Harry leaned against her as Narcissa floated down onto the broom herself and steered it back towards Gryffindor Tower. "That was hard," he whispered, and was quiet, and then he said, "Was it worth it?"

"You are the only one who can answer that question," Narcissa told him, bowing her head so her hair whispered around him.

Harry said nothing until Narcissa had deposited him on his bed, there to await the return of his friends and the "news" of Dolores's death. Then he reached out and caught her hand. Narcissa tilted her head curiously towards him.

"It was," Harry said, and no more.


	15. Narcissa Rising, Part Four

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Four_

"You don't look as crushed as I thought you would at Dolores's death."

Narcissa smiled at Minerva over the top of her teacup. "Crushed? I never knew you could make such a pun in the name of gallows humor, Minerva. I'm impressed."

Minerva's hands tightened on the edges of her plate, but she couldn't make the commotion that she obviously wanted to since they were at breakfast. She lowered her voice to a hiss instead. Narcissa considered, and then rejected, the notion of telling her that no hissing was impressive that someone who had heard Harry's Parseltongue. "I want to know if you had something to do with it."

Narcissa blinked. "Why would I? I didn't like Dolores all that much as a person, but she did indeed support Harry when she didn't have to do so. I thought it was brave of her to go against the Ministry the way she did."

Minerva looked almost ready to pick up her breakfast plate and throw it. Narcissa thoughtfully gave her a few more sausages. Such outrage was sometimes caused by lack of protein.

"You are much more than I thought you were," Minerva muttered. She had eaten a few of the sausages, so Narcissa thought that much was a success.

"More compassionate? More interesting? More intelligent? I hear such a qualifying word and I want more than the qualifications." Narcissa caught Draco's eye and lifted her cup in a small salute. Harry wasn't at breakfast yet, "sleeping in" while the rest of the school buzzed over the death of Dolores.

"You are more dangerous."

"Oh?"

"I know very well you had something to do with Dolores's death," Minerva said, leaning in to say it. Narcissa was grateful for that. It meant she didn't have to kill Minerva right away and deprive the school of a Headmistress. "You are the only new professor in the school this term—"

"And that must mean that I'm capable of something like this? I'm hardly a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor with a record of publication fraud or an enemy attached to the back of my head, you know."

Minerva frowned at her as if wondering how she had heard about those things. Narcissa was glad that she didn't ask, because she would have had to respond in a tone so dry that it would mean she had to drink three more glasses of water.

"Very well," Minerva conceded. "But I know you had something to do with it."

"Why?"

"You look too smug."

Narcissa shook her head. "If that is enough criteria to count, then you can look around and find three hundred other criminals in the Great Hall, Minerva. Do you know how many of these children endured her detentions with a blood quill?"

Minerva closed her eyes and looked ill. Then she said, "I didn't know it had gone that far."

Narcissa ate a tart berry and said nothing. The same way that Minerva had made a decision on behalf of the entire school to sacrifice Harry's name and reputation, she _should_ have known what was happening among the students. What use was it to sacrifice one for the good of the many if you didn't pay attention to the many, either?

But Minerva was still better than Albus Dumbledore, who had actively endangered Harry's safety. Narcissa saw no reason to strike and remove her from the position just yet.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry finally come into the Great Hall. She noticed that he was hurrying along the way he did when he was late for breakfast—she could not cure him of that habit even though he knew the house-elves at home would always hold food for him—and that he looked stressed, as he had every day this year. He dashed into his seat and began to dish out the porridge. Narcissa was pleased. Too much sulking or strutting would have attracted attention.

"The Ministry will send us someone else. Maybe someone worse," Minerva went on, brooding the way that only Gryffindors could.

Narcissa shrugged. She would deal with that person if they were a threat, as well. In the meantime, she had classes to teach and boys to keep safe.

* * *

Narcissa was in the middle of praising Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil for the interesting essays on telling the future by the stars when she saw the first drops of blood well from Harry's Horcrux scar.

She pretended that she hadn't noticed, even when Harry reached up to rub his forehead and Granger shrieked. Then she turned around and came up to Harry, gently catching his wrist when he reached up to rub again. She gave him a calm look and glanced at Granger. "Is something wrong, Miss Granger?"

"Harry's _bleeding_!" Granger pointed a shaking finger.

"I know," said Narcissa. "He will need to go to the hospital wing at once, as there is no sign of a visible injury, and therefore it may be related to internal magical ones. Will you volunteer to accompany him, Miss Granger?"

As she had thought would happen, Harry's friends calmed down once she gave them something to do. Granger and Weasley both went with him, which might seem excessive, but Harry could use the extra protection right now. Narcissa sent the others back to work, looking up at the sky with enchanted telescopes that could see through the clouds.

"Professor Malfoy?"

Narcissa didn't immediately recognize this student's voice, but when she turned around, she nodded. "Mr. Finnegan. Did you have a question?"

Seamus Finnegan stared at his desk, where an essay was spread out, but not more than half written. "Harry was telling the truth, wasn't he? That he has some kind of connection to—that You-Know-Who is back?"

Narcissa found it amusing that the boy was more willing to name the Dark Lord's return than the fact of Harry's connection to him, but it honestly didn't matter _what_ he said as long as he could act like Harry's friend again. She nodded. "He is, Mr. Finnegan. I saw him with my own eyes."

"Yeah, but you're his foster mother. You could have been lying."

"A fascinating theory, Mr. Finnegan. I will remember that you find lying about Dark magic for those you care for an acceptable and normal thing when you begin to turn in more assignments."

Finnegan started and stared at her. "You can't be _offended_ , Professor Malfoy! No one believed Harry—"

"And now they are beginning to recant." The Ministry was officially still "investigating" Dolores's death and hadn't sent a new Defense professor yet. Narcissa peered mildly at Finnegan. "Do you think truth depends on how many people believe it?"

Finnegan turned bright crimson and went back to his work. Narcissa nodded a little. She did not think that Harry's fellow Gryffindors were all bad influences, any more than all of Draco's Slytherins were, but it did seem as though perhaps some of them might have gone into Gryffindor because of the lack of brains to be placed anywhere else.

* * *

"Are you alone, Narcissa?"

"Alone and with my quarters warded so that no one can try to listen in, as per your request."

Sirius swallowed and nodded. Even through the necessarily green flames of the fireplace, his expression was sickly. "Okay. Okay. I know how to transfer the Horcrux out of Harry and into another being. Not a living one—that was what I thought at first, but then we would have the same problem of not wanting to kill someone."

 _Perhaps you would._ Narcissa let no sign of that thought cross her tranquil face. "So you came up with a different kind of being?"

" _Semi-_ living. A portrait. I did think of an animal, but I think Voldemort's magic would probably know the difference between a human being and an animal."

"And it might resist. What a fascinating theory." Narcissa began to smile. She could have come up with the solution on her own, perhaps, but she did enjoy it when others' minds worked well. "Did you have a specific portrait in mind?"

"Mother's. At Grimmauld Place."

Narcissa laughed before she could stop herself. "Yes, that would be good practice," she agreed. "And not one that you would mind destroying afterwards."

"Of course not." Sirius grinned at her. "Still, I want you to read over my notes. I'm still—sometimes my brain clouds over as if I'm still in Azkaban." He frowned and rubbed his forehead. "I want you to make sure that I'm not overlooking something obvious that would make this a bad idea."

"Of course we will wait," Narcissa murmured. "And we will probably not want to perform the ritual until the end of the school year anyway."

"You said Harry was bleeding from the forehead the other day!"

"Yes, but the Dark Lord does not seem able to do anything more than that. Even his prophetic dreams have stopped." Narcissa frowned to herself. "I wonder if using my blood rather than Harry's disrupted the control that the Dark Lord would have had over the Horcrux connection otherwise."

"Look, if I can learn to call him Voldemort, so can you."

Narcissa simply shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. "That would be something else you could research, you know. The ritual he used, and whether it would have all the effects without the blood of an enemy. Or without the blood of a particular enemy. There must be a reason that he chose Harry to use, when he could have gone through much less elaborate plans to capture someone else who opposed him."

Sirius scowled. "I doubt he thought that far ahead. He probably just wanted to be seen as unafraid of Harry."

"Research it anyway."

"Yes, O mighty commander," Sirius muttered, and disappeared into the flames before Narcissa could tell him he'd done well, something she knew was often essential when dealing with underlings.

She sighed. Well, she could owl him her congratulations and thanks after he'd owled her the notes he had so far on transferring a Horcrux from a living being into a portrait. After all, it might be that he was completely wrong.

* * *

"Everyone," Minerva said through gritted teeth as she stood up and waved a hand at the man in fine Auror robes who had entered the Great Hall, "please welcome Professor John Dawlish, who will be taking over the position vacated by Professor Umbridge."

Narcissa studied the man in front of her with interest as she rose and performed a small curtsey, which anyone remembering her social position would expect of her. His face was flushing an interesting combination of colors. She wondered if he was sensing Dark magic in the crowd of students, which would be possible from some of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws who weren't careful enough with their research or were already Marked. Or perhaps that constipated look was his natural expression.

From Minerva's look as she escorted him between the tables to his seat, he was someone loyal to the Ministry. Well, Narcissa could deal with that. She resumed her seat and smiled at Dawlish again as Minerva led him to the seat beside her.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Dawlish sounded relieved to have someone he recognized. "Or should I say Professor Malfoy?"

"Either would be correct, but Professor more so in the confines of the school," Narcissa murmured, giving him the sort of smile that always went far with Fudge. "But I would ask that you, in particular, call me Narcissa."

Dawlish chattered with her for the rest of the meal, and even though he cut himself off with a nervous laugh and a shake of his head more than once, it was obvious he was here as much to investigate Dolores's death as to teach classes. Narcissa wasn't surprised. She nodded and made sympathetic noises when he described the furor that the loss of Dolores had caused the Ministry. She even listened with calmness to the unflattering way he talked about Harry.

Dawlish did stop at one point and laugh uneasily again. "I'm sorry, Narcissa. It must hurt to hear people talking about your foster son in this way."

"Well. It's no more or less flattering than what was printed in the papers for months, when many of the students thought he was out to cheat his way to glory in the Triwizard Tournament." Narcissa shook her head and picked up a piece of apple, sucking daintily on it. She saw the way Dawlish stared at her mouth and carefully didn't laugh. "I'm grateful that the Tournament never happened in the end."

Dawlish narrowed his eyes. "Did Potter have anything to do with that?"

Narcissa widened her eyes. "If he could do magic like that, then why wouldn't he have the magic to beat the challenges?"

"I'm sorry, you're right. It's stupid to think a fourteen-year-old boy would have power like that."

 _Right. You don't understand the power he wields._ Narcissa finished sucking down the last moisture from the apple and saw Dawlish hastily averting his eyes again, ducking his head and shaking it as if he had flies in his ears. She smiled a private smile. She could use that.

"But who really knows how he defeated You-Know-Who," Dawlish said suddenly. "He must have some kind of power we don't know about if he could do that as a _baby_."

Narcissa managed to keep her face calm and polite. As boorish as Dawlish was, he wasn't a patch on Cornelius when he thought he was being witty. "I'm sure that I would have noticed if he was capable of leveling the place or killing a person, Auror Dawlish. I have lived with him for four years, after all."

"Call me John." Dawlish leaned forwards and smiled more at her teeth than anything else.

Narcissa restrained a sigh of vexation. She would have to wait and see what happened, whether it was worth killing Dawlish herself or not.

* * *

"I want you to meditate," Narcissa said, and made her voice as lulling as possible so that both Harry and Draco would listen and stop peering at each other from the corners of their eyes. "Envision the drifting ocean I told you of. The waves, the colors, the foam as the waves break against the shore…"

She moved them slowly through the meditation, until they would envision themselves on a ship that sped through the waters or drifted through them, as they desired. Even when the fire snapped hard, they didn't flinch. Narcissa nodded. That meant their Occlumency was getting stronger.

"And now, descend the ship as it comes into port," she said, carefully guiding them back out of the visualization. Lucius had always insisted that coming out of it rapidly didn't induce any ill effects, but then, Lucius had said the same thing about the Dark Mark. "Stretch your legs, stretch your arms, and open your eyes."

They both opened their eyes at the same time, and grinned at each other. Then Draco leaned forwards to swipe one of the small sandwiches the Malfoy house-elves had made, and said, "There's starting to be a murmur in the Slytherin common room."

"About Voldemort?" Harry was alert instantly, as prepared as a snake, turning to face Draco.

Draco nodded, but, conscious of Narcissa's disapproving eye, waited until he was finished chewing to speak. "Yes. There are some of the older students saying he'll win the war and everyone needs to join him or die. They don't threaten people that obviously, but that's the undertone of their comments."

"Those are the Marked ones?" Narcissa asked quietly.

Draco shook his head. "Not all of them. A few are like Amsart—I don't think he's Marked, but he wants to follow whoever the strongest leader is. And there's a few who like to hint and seem mysterious. I doubt they're in the Dark Lord's ranks. They just want people to pay attention to them."

"But that yearning for attention might extend to getting the Mark."

"Yes, Mother."

Narcissa sat and thought about that for a short time. Then she turned to Harry. "Your last heroic deed cannot be told," she said quietly. "The one before that, not enough people believe happened. But I know that you _can_ do something impressive in public, Harry. It's time."

Harry looked up and gave her a flat look. Narcissa studied the way his hands clenched on his knees. He would do what he had to do, and his devotion to her and the discipline kept him from complaining aloud, but it wasn't like he really _wanted_ to do it, either.

"Harry?"

"I don't know what else I can do," Harry said flatly. "It's not like we can call Voldemort to a certain place so that we can fight him, and even if we did, I might lose. And there isn't another enemy people would be impressed to see me dueling."

"There is something you can do," Narcissa said, quietly, surely. She had looked at the notes Sirius had sent her, and even though this wasn't their focus, she was confident it would work. "The Horcrux that burns in you? It can be turned against Voldemort's servants, if not Voldemort himself."

Harry stared at her with widened eyes. Draco sat up. "The Marked students?"

"Yes." Narcissa smiled at them. "We impress a potential audience, get rid of a problem that might threaten Draco in Slytherin, and show many people that Voldemort has returned all at once."

"Oh." Harry relaxed with a motion like a lazy dropping of a cobra's coils. "If it'll hurt the people who are threatening _Draco_ , I'm all for it."

Narcissa carefully did not roll her eyes. She would teach him to have a care for his own life at the last.

But now was not the last. And Harry looked more than satisfied with his reward of having Draco beam at him with softened eyes.

Narcissa's teachers in the discipline had taught her that attachments were a weakness, and one should not have them. But she had come to accept that those beliefs had little to do with reality.

 _Love is a reason for both murder and self-defense. What other reason does one need?_


	16. Narcissa Rising, Part Five

Thank you again for all the reviews! It looks like this will be longer than five parts after all.

 _Part Five_

Harry stood nibbling his lip as he looked at the sprawling grounds in front of him. "This could go wrong."

"It could. Which is the reason that you are the only one who can decide if he wants to do this." Narcissa gently smoothed some of the lines from Harry's forehead. Harry swallowed and abruptly turned, leaning his forehead against her shoulder.

"I don't know what to do."

Narcissa calmed her own worries, that Harry might not be strong enough to carry this off, and smiled gently down at him. Honestly, she remembered the point when _she_ had reached this stage in the discipline. She had just enough idea of her strength to know how many others, stronger than she, were out there. She had fought an internal battle between proceeding in her training and turning back.

It was tempting to let adults take care of things. But the temptation would be less to Harry than most, who hadn't had adults for most of his life who he could trust to help him scoop his intestines back in if he was bleeding out. He would get through this, probably faster than she had.

Sure enough, Harry let her stroke the back of his neck five times before he stood up and shook his head. "No, I want to do it. It's—well, it's the only way." He paused and looked towards the Forbidden Forest. "You're sure that Sirius is already there with that mirror?"

Narcissa nodded. "And you know that if this doesn't succeed the way we want it to, you will have other chances?"

"If this doesn't succeed, the whole _point_ is missing, though. We have to show how weak and terrified Voldemort is, and having me collapse from the pain isn't going to do that."

"It might be enough to show those fools like Dawlish that the Dark Lord is still alive."

Harry shook his head again. "I want to do it the way we planned," he said, and then he stepped away from Narcissa and advanced towards the gates. The November wind swirled around him, chasing withered leaves. He looked calm and content and every inch the prince that Narcissa had also raised Draco to be.

Narcissa smiled and followed him. Harry was already striding, his robes flaring around him. As he went, he raised his arm, and the spell that Narcissa had taught him to cast took off from the end of his wand, filling the air with what looked like a spray of black fountain-water.

There were gasps and shrieks from inside the castle. They would see the spell there as black falling stars, and hear Harry's roaring voice.

" _Voldemort! Come to me, you coward_!"

The front doors of the castle banged open as professors began to run out. Narcissa ignored them, her gaze fastened on her foster son. Harry had braced himself. The spell would sound with equal force and violence in the ears of the one it was meant to summon.

And if Voldemort resembled the monster Narcissa had known during the first war, he would never be alone. He would have other Death Eaters with him, and in the face of such a taunt, he would be forced to respond.

It took longer than it should have, enough for Narcissa to wonder if Voldemort was intelligent enough not to reveal his existence to the Ministry after all. But rage won past his base cunning. He appeared with several black-cloaked figures behind him, their white masks gleaming. He paced forwards, his eyes glaring at Harry. His long pale hair fell over the side of his head, and someone screamed behind her.

 _How can they think he looks frightening, instead of ridiculous?_ Narcissa wondered, but that was one of the mysteries it wasn't her duty to solve. She watched as Voldemort came to a stop in front of Harry and bent down, his hands twitching around his wand.

"You summoned me to kill you?"

"No, I summoned you to do this," Harry said, and tossed the potion that Narcissa had spent most of the last fortnight researching and brewing all over him.

Voldemort stepped back with a snarl. His pale hair was swaying now and tinged with red, and Narcissa smiled. The potion was working as it was meant to, then, sliding down Voldemort's skin and delving into the cracks in it.

"I am going to kill you for this." Voldemort's voice had deepened to a low, dangerous hissing. He was looking at both of them, Narcissa realized, even though she stood a fair distance behind Harry.

"I thought you might try," Narcissa said, and then watched as a red cloud began to form behind Voldemort's head. "But I think you'll be too busy dealing with the results of the potion."

Voldemort's mouth went on opening, and then he screamed. He fell to his knees and _screamed_ , and the Death Eaters behind him backed away and aimed their wands uncertainly at Harry. One of them might have managed to get in a strike; Harry was laughing so hard that a curse could have struck his shoulder or his collarbone or something else. But Narcissa cast one of her own flexible shields on the air in front of Harry, and then all was well.

She would have a talk about that with him later, though, Narcissa thought, shaking her head as she watched the red cloud rising from Voldemort turn and swiftly make its way into the school. No matter _what_ was happening in front of one, that was no excuse for distraction.

The cloud began to grow and roil as it came into contact with the school's walls. The tendrils went first through open windows, but it didn't need them; anywhere a crack between the stones opened, the cloud could reach. Narcissa listened, and smiled a little as she heard the other screams of pain and terror. The cloud wouldn't permanently hurt the students Marked with allegiance to Voldemort, but part of the _point_ was that they would suffer somewhat. Otherwise, what was to keep more idiots from surrendering themselves to the Mark?

The cloud abruptly snapped back together again, and a small number of Slytherin students came with it, along with one or two Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor that Narcissa recognized from the year above Harry's. She raised her eyebrows. Well, best to eliminate the threat before it showed its fangs.

The scarlet mist that filled the air surrounded the kneeling students and the still-screaming Voldemort, then gave a snap like the sound of a whip. Their left sleeves went flying back, and the Marks lay exposed. Voldemort lifted his head like a dog at that, and stopped screaming to say, "Stop them!"

But since none of his followers had any idea what was going on, they simply hesitated, and by then, the cloud's magic had had time to work.

The red tendrils cocooned the exposed Dark Marks in shining scarlet, and then the Marks began to dissolve and bleed down the students' arms like dripping paint. Narcissa relaxed a little. The cloud was based on the potion she had given Severus to deaden the pain of the Mark, but she'd altered it so that it could hopefully remove the brand in Voldemort's presence and stuff the magic back into him. It seemed _that_ wish was being granted, at least.

"No! Stop them!"

Now the Death Eaters knew what Voldemort wanted them to do, but it was obvious they were even more useless than Narcissa had thought. They waved their wands and chanted a few ineffective spells. The students who had taken the Dark Marks had stopped screaming and just watched the blank ink—or blood, or pure necromantic magic—collecting on the ground. Narcissa wrinkled her nose as she smelled the holes of rotting grass the magic from the Marks promptly made. The black magic finally sprang up and streamed back to Voldemort, slamming into him and spinning him around on his knees, making him snarl.

There was a moment's tense, trembling balance. Then it dissolved into chaos. Most of the students who had taken the Marks were trying to get to the castle, even the Slytherins, proving that they had no idea what they'd volunteered for. Voldemort was on his feet, waving his arms around, and firing off curses at his own followers as often as at anyone else. The prefects outside were trying to herd members of their own Houses to safety. Minerva was storming straight for the gates.

"What the hell is that?"

That was Dawlish's faint voice, right beside her ear. Narcissa grinned viciously at nothing, and turned around in time to give Dawlish a blinking, startled glance. "That's Voldemort. Didn't you know what he looked like? Or, well, I suppose it's a shock to see what he looks like now that he's altered his body with Dark magic," she added, as if conscientiously.

"Voldemort is dead," Dawlish whispered, not looking away from the spectacle of Voldemort torturing a masked Death Eater with the Cruciatus Curse.

"Well, then there's someone doing a good imitation of him," Narcissa said.

As if called by the sound of her words, Voldemort finished inflicting pain on the hapless who deserved it and swung around. His eyes met hers, and his mouth opened in a silent snarl of rage. Narcissa was immensely amused to observe that it looked as if he had her teeth.

"I am going to _kill_ you, Potter!"

"No, you're not," Harry said, and faded abruptly from sight.

Narcissa smiled. He'd _also_ had lessons this summer in using his Invisibility Cloak properly, so that it shielded his entire body. And from the way Voldemort began randomly casting Dark spells, he couldn't see through it the way some people could.

Narcissa couldn't let the Dark Arts continue, though. Someone might get hurt, and then the papers would find a way to turn that back on Harry and paint it as his fault for summoning Voldemort. She drew her own wand and cast a shield that reflected the Entrail-Expelling Curse back on a Death Eater.

Voldemort stared at her like a maddened owl who had decided to adopt a Muggle hairstyle.

"You will die," he said.

"Oh, eventually," said Narcissa. Then she cast another spell, one that she kept carefully non-verbal, since Dawlish and other interesting witnesses were there. It would look exactly like the red light of a Stunner as it soared across the grass between them and struck Voldemort full on in the chest.

Would _look_ like. But was _not_.

Narcissa watched in some satisfaction as Voldemort clutched at his chest for a long moment afterwards. His eyes shone like rubies, and his mouth opened further and further, and he reminded Narcissa of a toy Bellatrix had had when they were younger, a mechanical dog whose jaw she'd broken on the first day.

Then he screamed.

But he screamed as he vanished, and most of the remaining Death Eaters panicked and ran when they realized that their leader was gone, and the scene was abruptly calm again. Narcissa sighed as her head slowly drooped, and looked around for Harry.

Harry, visible again at her side, was staring at her as if he had no idea what the plan had been, what they'd discussed. But when she smiled at him, he smiled back and gave her an exhausted little wave before dropping straight down to the grass.

Draco ran from behind an older mass of Slytherin students then, and gathered Harry in as if he would cradle him and keep him safe forever. A few seconds later, he seemed to realize that the grass wasn't the best way to do that. He turned and cast one of the charms that would lighten Harry's weight, then dashed towards the hospital wing

Narcissa nodded and began to follow. But Dawlish interrupted her, gripping her arm. "We need to talk," he said, all but snarling.

"If we must," said Narcissa, holding his eyes. "But for the moment, I have two sons to attend to." And she shook off Dawlish's grip and followed Draco and Harry to the hospital wing.

* * *

"Harry will be fine." Madam Pomfrey's voice was trembling a little as she made her diagnosis. "It was more the effort of casting the spell that you—told me about that drained him, not everything else he did."

"Ah, I'm glad," said Narcissa simply, and sat down next to the bed. Harry's face was pale, but that wasn't unusual for him, and neither was the inflamed red of the scar on his brow. She smoothed his hair back and watched him attentively as he breathed.

"How—how did he know a spell like that?"

Narcissa smiled and looked up. "Well, you must remember that Harry is no longer a parentless Gryffindor who has to go back to his awful Muggle relatives during the summers. We accepted him into our home, and that means that we're going to teach him a good deal about ways to protect himself."

Madam Pomfrey paused with her hand smoothing down the sheet. Then she looked up and said, "And he needs to know how to handle himself if he's going to fight You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort."

The mediwitch flinched and retreated. Narcissa shook her head and faced Harry again. Draco met her eyes worriedly from the other side of the bed.

"Is he really going to be all right?"

This time, Narcissa considered herself within her rights to give her blood son a chiding look. "Draco, you were there when we discussed this spell. Harry knew the risks, and he chose to brave them anyway. Of _course_ he's going to be all right. As though I would let my foster son come to harm."

Draco's eyes flickered uncertainly, and he looked down and then nodded. Narcissa sighed and reached across the space between them to take his hand.

"What made you think otherwise?"

"The way his scar looks."

Narcissa shrugged. "There's still not much that we understand about that scar," she said, and knew Draco would understand that she was speaking of the Horcrux connection, which she wasn't about to mention with a nosy mediwitch potentially listening in. "But I think it makes sense for it to look that way after he opposed one of Voldemort's plans."

"Is he in any pain right now?"

"With the sleeping potions and the pain ones that have been dripped down his throat? No."

Draco swallowed and nodded. Then he reached out and squeezed Harry's hand, with a little surreptitious motion that Narcissa knew wasn't meant to hide it from her. She nodded to Draco. It was not the way she would have reacted to Lucius being wounded, but then, she was not her son, and there was no need for them to resemble each other so closely.

"There will still be some people who might try to deny that he's back," Draco finally said, when the sound of Harry's breathing had probably become oppressive to him. It was not oppressive to Narcissa. No sound that meant someone she loved was alive ever could be.

"Voldemort? Yes, they might try."

"But aren't you worried about that?"

Narcissa smiled. "The ones who do that are truly the deluded ones, and we won't be able to reach them no matter what we do. But before, with the confrontation in the graveyard, the only ones besides us who saw were the Death Eaters who had every reason to keep their presence secret. Now we have not only the students whose Dark Marks were stripped away, but most of the professors in the school, and many other students as well. Now they can convince the reasonable ones who had reasonable doubt." _And we have the ones Sirius will tell, when the mirror's reflection spreads._

Draco swallowed. Narcissa waited for him to confess what was bothering him. The hospital wing really was silent except for the sound of Harry's breathing. Madam Pomfrey was apparently brewing potions quietly, or sitting there with her head in her hands, perhaps.

"I can't get over what a risk he took," Draco said. "What I felt when he was standing there in front of the gates with Voldemort looming over him—he could have died."

"I know."

"But you _let_ him take the risk?"

"He will never be safe as long as Voldemort survives," Narcissa told Draco, and watched the way that the red flush in Harry's scar seemed to dim a little. "What I can do is give him the tools to make his own decisions and defend himself. And that's what I'm doing. He's the one who thought we had to take a risk to show people that Voldemort was back."

Draco was quiet some more. Then he said, "I don't think I can let him do that."

"You can't stand in his way."

"I mean—I have to defend him some _other_ way. I have to lessen the risk for him without standing back and letting him take it."

"As long as you don't interfere when he does decide to risk himself," Narcissa cautioned her son. She knew the relationship between her and Lucius would never have worked if he had tried to block her own risk-taking and decisions.

"No. But—enough to mean that he might not have to take as many risks in the future."

"Acceptable."

Draco nodded and went on staring at Harry's silent form on the bed. Meanwhile, someone knocked on the door of the hospital wing. Narcissa looked up, ready to send the inquirer to the back room where Madam Pomfrey might be brooding, if necessary.

But it was Dawlish, who looked at her without smiling and said, "Professor Malfoy. We should talk."


	17. Narcissa Rising, Part Six

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Six_

"I want to know who that person really was."

Narcissa smiled a little. She had wondered if the demonstration would manage to pierce Dawlish's thick skull, and she still thought it might, given world enough and time. But it was clear that he had decided the simpler explanation was that she was playing a trick on him. She sighed. "It was Voldemort."

"No, it wasn't."

"Why not?"

Dawlish spluttered and waved his arms around as if he hadn't expected a direct attack like that. Narcissa was glad that she had raised a Silencing Charm around them before this conversation started. Dawlish would probably have woken up Harry otherwise. "You-Know-Who wouldn't look like that!"

"He would if he took some of my blood and accidentally made it the cornerstone of the ritual that gave him his body back, instead of Harry's blood. Didn't he look like me?"

Dawlish stood there as if he didn't know how to answer. Narcissa concealed a smile. On the one hand, she knew that Voldemort _did_ look like her, and Dawlish wasn't a fool; he would be able to see the resemblance.

On the other hand, Voldemort was ugly, and Dawlish's training had to be barking at him about being rude to a woman of high position.

"He did, a little," Dawlish conceded, and then added quickly, "But I'm sure that's someone you just persuaded to dress up and act the part."

"Why?" Narcissa was genuinely curious what Dawlish thought she would have to gain from that.

"Because—because it's impossible for You-Know-Who to be back! He's dead! Your son killed him all those years ago!"

Narcissa sighed. She was sorry, for the first time, that she had killed Dumbledore. He could have provided confirmation that Voldemort had been around during Harry's first year in wraith form. But it was possible that Minerva had some of the same memories, at least of Dumbledore telling her the truth about the wraith. "That did not happen. I can show you Pensieve memories that would—"

"No, it's a _trick_! That's exactly what the Ministry warned us to beware of. I just didn't think that you would lie about something like this, Professor Malfoy." Dawlish shook his head, his face red with stubbornness, and drew away from her. "I thought you wouldn't go to such lengths to make your son look good."

"It's not about making him look good, and all about making sure that people survive when Voldemort returns," Narcissa said, quiet, intense, willing Dawlish to listen. He wasn't important in and of himself, but for the people he represented, the ones who she would have to persuade to their side. Right now, this was a resounding failure. "My son first of all, but you saw those students with the Dark Mark on their arms. My son did this partially so that Marked students in the school couldn't pose a danger to him or other students."

"The real Dark Mark can't be removed by any means known." Dawlish gave her a smug, smarmy smile. "You ought to know that, Professor _Malfoy_. After all, your husband was under the Imperius but he still hasn't managed to take the Mark off his arm, has he?"

"Because Voldemort was there, we were able to force the magic back into him, something obviously impossible when he'd been reduced to a wraith and wasn't physically present at—"

"This is all a trick," said Dawlish, and stuck his nose up in the air. "I'm going to tell the Ministry that you pulled a trick and did it to convince me, and you injured innocent students are this school."

"Innocent, when they had the Mark?"

"The real Mark can't be removed," Dawlish repeated obstinately. "That means they must have been tattoos. Or a spell that _you_ cast. I'm going to report that you did this, and you also had something to do with Madam Umbridge's disappearance."

"Based on what evidence?"

"That you're powerful, and uncontrolled." For an instant, Dawlish's gaze went past her towards the door of the hospital wing. "And you're running around sheltering someone who's _also_ powerful and uncontrolled."

Narcissa sighed. "I didn't want to do this, you know," she told Dawlish, shaking her head. "I wouldn't have if you'd stuck to threatening me. I can remain calm in the face of those threats, I really can."

She flicked her wand out, blocked the defensive spell that Dawlish tried to cast in his shock, and pinned his sleeve to the wall with a thrown dagger. "But you can't threaten _my son_ ," she finished, and Dawlish had a moment to stare at her in horror before she added, " _Imperio_."

The spell swept over Dawlish and made his jaw fall slightly open and his eyes glaze. Narcissa watched him as she cast the spell that would tell her if anyone else was around and observing her. She got a clear, shimmering sparkle as a result, which meant no one was.

Narcissa nodded. She had perfected her use of the Imperius Curse until it was hard to tell that someone was under her control at all, but she needed some extra moments to work on it.

Carefully, she cast binding spells on Dawlish until his buried fear at the fact that he knew something was happening subsided and she could glance into his eyes and use Legilimency easily. Then she began to speak, pausing after each sentence so that it would have a chance to sink deep into Dawlish's mind and tie him to her desires.

"You will not seek to arrest or threaten Harry Potter. You will not seek to arrest or threaten Draco Malfoy. You will not seek to arrest or threaten Lucius Malfoy. You will not seek to arrest or threaten Narcissa Malfoy. If involved in an expedition to arrest them or ordered to arrest them, you will come up with an excuse to delay it or sabotage the mission that sounds as little like an excuse as possible. If you hear a credible threat against them from the Minister or anyone else, you will inform Narcissa Malfoy of the threat at once by owl. You will forget about the owl that moment you have sent it. You will also take her suggestions as serious ones that you should give due consideration to.

"You will return to the Ministry and state that you have evidence to your satisfaction that Dolores Umbridge was killed by a Death Eater who gained entrance to the school due to the Ministry's lax policy of setting protections. You will argue that Aurors should be sent to Hogwarts to offer some spells of their own that would defend entrances and exits and tell the Aurors when anyone who bears the Dark Mark enters. You will also argue that they should use the Dark Mark of a convicted Death Eater to set up that warning spell. You will belittle and cut down anyone who suggests using Lucius Malfoy's Dark Mark.

"You will also tell people that, in your opinion, Harry Potter is right about You-Know-Who's return. You will tell this only to people who have indicated they might be sympathetic to such a view. You will use the Memory Charm on anyone who, when you tell this to them, threatens to go and tell the Minister or anyone else.

"In other matters, use your discretion. If it seems to your unbiased judgment that another threat has arisen that Narcissa Malfoy should know about, send her an anonymous owl, which you will immediately forget about."

Narcissa waited until she could feel the slight twitch of his thoughts that indicated he had indeed been affected by the words sinking into his mind and changing him. Then she Summoned back the dagger and released him from the spell. Dawlish staggered and stared at her. One of his hands rose as though he was going to touch his temple and smooth out a lump there.

"Wh—what happened?"

Narcissa assumed an expression of concern and frowned at him. "You came in looking rather pale and as though you were about to fall over, Auror Dawlish. Did witnessing the events this afternoon tire you?"

"They frightened me," said Dawlish, in a much more normal, raw tone than Narcissa had heard from him since he arrived. She hadn't actually told him that he should always tell the truth to her, but with the bindings on his mind now, it would be hard to lie. She watched him shake his head a little and his face grow whiter. "I suppose we can't really deny that You-Know-Who is back if we actually saw him, can we?"

"No. Though I suppose the _Daily Prophet_ will still try."

"Then they can talk to me. The word of an experienced Auror ought to be worth more than the word of an _in_ experienced boy."

Narcissa smiled. "I appreciate your willingness to spread the word, Auror Dawlish. Let me know if I can do anything to help."

"Not right now, Narcissa." Dawlish gave her the slightest of patronizing smiles. "I think this effort should be left up to professionals." And he strode away, his boots stomping harder than ever on the floor, as if he wanted to make the whole school feel the force of his conviction.

Narcissa cast a Silencing Charm around herself, then leaned against the wall and laughed until her throat was dry.

* * *

"Those were our students that you put at risk."

"I believe we've discussed before that you put Harry at risk on a regular basis." Narcissa folded up her robes and turned around, one eyebrow rising as she considered the Headmistress in her doorway. "He only did something that, in the end, _spared_ those students from serving the monster they dedicated their lives to."

"He can't have done it all by himself."

Narcissa sighed. "You know very little about my foster son."

"I _know_ that it was you who brewed that potion."

"And if you can identify illegal ingredients or something else I did wrong while brewing it, then perhaps you can condemn me." Narcissa locked the trunk. They were going home to spend Christmas at Malfoy Manor, and she was determined that no curious fingers would find the gifts she had purchased for Draco and Harry in Hogsmeade before she was ready. "Really, Minerva. What do you expect me to say? That I'm going to go and surrender myself to Aurors right this instant?"

Minerva folded her arms. She looked old and small and hunched-in. Narcissa wondered, not for the first time, if she should have more closely manipulated the succession after Dumbledore died. She had allowed his chosen successor to take his place, but she could have done something else.

 _Perhaps I shall have to soon._

"It's dangerous," Minerva whispered. "I don't think the professor most dangerous for our students here was Umbridge."

Narcissa held herself rigid, so that the insult could pass through her and into the distance like one of the many poisons she had an immunity to. Then she shook her head. She would not depose Minerva simply because of a threat. "You understand nothing about what Umbridge and the Ministry wanted, or you wouldn't say that."

"Then suppose you _tell_ me!"

"They wanted an entire generation of children to grow up in ignorance. Given the problems before this with Hogwarts losing a Defense teacher every year, they've largely got their wish, but now Voldemort's return is threatening that. Even having a few people believe Harry is too much. I am protective of my sons, Minerva. I am also trying to be the best Astronomy professor I can, and neutralize a threat that would affect _all_ our students' lives. And for these efforts, I receive stares and words so bitter that I think you would prefer to have Dolores back."

"I understood how to counter Dolores. I don't understand how to counter you."

"Why do you think you have to?" Narcissa tried to make her voice gentle. Minerva sounded so bitter and lost and hopeless. "What is the harm you think I'll do your students while I'm here?"

"You've already shown it."

"And those Marked students _wouldn't_ have made others' lives miserable? Perhaps even tortured or killed someone on Voldemort's command?"

"They're still young—"

"But not innocent." Narcissa burned, for the first time in years, to tell a stranger of the discipline, and what she had already mastered and learned how to do by such an age. Or what Harry knew now.

But as with Minerva's earlier insult, sharp words weren't worth putting all of her plans at risk. She only shook her head. "It's done. The Marks are gone."

"And you remain here, to endanger them still."

Narcissa looked carefully into Minerva's eyes. "Are you telling me that I'm no longer welcome here after the holidays?"

"I'm saying that you should only plan on holding the post for a year. I'll begin looking for someone in the next term, and I expect to have them hired by the time that summer arrives."

"If you wish," Narcissa said neutrally. While being at Hogwarts as a professor to watch over her boys was useful, she did sometimes find that the duties of teaching and marking interfered with her protection of them. She could find other ways to visit and guard them if Minerva insisted on sacking her.

"I wish I knew how to neutralize you," Minerva muttered again, and wandered away looking every inch Dumbledore's age. Narcissa shook her head, and went to the Floo to open it and tell the house-elves they would be home soon.

 _Not replaceable yet. But she is becoming tiresome._

* * *

"Dearest."

Lucius was flushing and shifting from foot to foot. Narcissa simply watched him for a moment. He knew better than to show in front of Draco and Harry how openly he desired her.

Which meant that what he was showing now was not simple desire. It was something else. She crooked her fingers at Harry, and Harry gave her one questioning glance and then led Draco upstairs, chattering lightly all the while of whether they should stop supporting the Falmouth Falcons since they'd lost their last game. Draco gave Harry a look that said he knew very well what was going on, but let himself be led.

Then Narcissa and Lucius were alone in the midst of their great drawing room, with mirrors on the wall that were testaments to Lucius's vanity. Narcissa pushed a strand of her hair out of the way and eyed her husband. "Out with it."

"What do you mean?"

"You've done something that you're ashamed of, or at least something that you think might cause unacceptable consequences if I discover it," Narcissa told him crisply. "And that is in itself unacceptable, Lucius, that you would try to lie to me. Tell me the truth, and it _might_ be that I'll go easy on you."

Lucius flinched. Then he slowly drew up his left sleeve. Narcissa expected to see the Dark Mark weeping and distended like a sore, or possibly inflamed, or cursed, or eating half his arm.

She did _not_ expect to see a great band of shimmering gold encircling the Mark. Narcissa grasped his arm and turned it. When she dared to brush a finger over the band of gold, it felt like skin. The only thing that marked it as different was the color.

She met Lucius's eyes. He was shivering all over, and kept his eyes averted from her.

"Explain to me," Narcissa whispered, "what is going on."

While she was at Hogwarts, speaking to him mostly through the fire and occasional visits at home, it might have been easy to persuade himself that he was more frightened of Voldemort. Now Lucius shivered again and began to babble. "I think the blood that the Dark Lord took from you must have influenced it somehow. That's the only thing I can think of. It—I would never feel any temptation to surrender to him no matter how he called me through the Mark, _never_. But I think that the blood—"

"You think that the blood _what_?"

"That the blood he took from you means that he also has control over the marriage vows that bind me to you," Lucius whispered.

Narcissa stood still for a moment. Yes, it was true that the band of gold resembled a wedding ring. But there was one problem with Lucius's idea. "Then he would have gained equal control over me, and been able to make _me_ feel loyalty to him. And drawn to him." She knew Lucius hadn't been with the Death Eaters who had followed Voldemort into defeat at Hogwarts. She would have sensed that at once. But he might have done other things. "What have you done?"

"A few raids." Lucius bowed his head. "And I know that he hasn't been able to compel your loyalty, Narcissa, but you have your discipline to help you resist him. And…"

"Yes?"

"You've always been stronger than me." Lucius's head bowed further. "He controlled me enough that I couldn't inform you when I knew I would only see you for a few minutes. I think the way he was hurt when you and Harry drew him to Hogwarts and the fact that you're staying longer this time have weakened his control."

Narcissa gently drew Lucius into her arms and kissed his forehead, and then the gold skin around his Mark. It shimmered and sparked to her lips, but she ignored that. Lucius had admitted he needed her. That was all that was required to make her protect him.

"Poor darling. Of _course_ I will take care of it."


	18. Narcissa Rising, Part Seven

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Seven_

Narcissa leaned slowly forwards and considered the mirror that lay on the table before her. Sirius, hiding in the Forbidden Forest during Harry's confrontation with Voldemort, had recorded the whole incident in this magical mirror. Narcissa had waited to do anything with it, not sure whether it would be needed when there were so many witnesses.

It looked now as if it would be needed. Fudge was hysterically insisting that Harry was still lying, and the _Daily Prophet_ went along with him—less, Narcissa thought, because of sycophancy than because conflict was good for its sales. And none of the witnesses at Hogwarts had spoken up in any numbers.

But Narcissa thought she had another way.

And it would tie into the beginning of her campaign to free Lucius from Voldemort's influence, as well.

Narcissa stood, smiled, swirled her cloak around her shoulders, and strode for the fireplace. "Minister of Magic's office!"

* * *

Fudge's lackey, a thin, nervous woman whom Narcissa thought might have been hired because she looked the opposite of Umbridge in every way, didn't keep Narcissa long in the plush waiting room. Malfoy money still greased enough of Fudge's wheels to ensure that. Narcissa gave Fudge's inquiring stare a smile of her own, and settled into place on the chair in front of his desk, inclining her head. "Hello, Minister. Are you well?"

"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy. Of course." Fudge had started playing with the rim of his bowler hat. "You're, er, here with a message from Lucius?"

Narcissa nearly chucked as she realized what was going on. Fudge thought she was here with a threat to withdraw monetary support. "Not at all," she said, and smoothly crossed one leg over the other. Distracted and upset as he was, Fudge's eyes followed the motion of her leg under her robe. "It's my message."

That got his attention enough to make him pay attention to her face, with some stops along the way. "Oh?"

Narcissa nodded, earnest and patient. "Yes. I wanted to talk to you about leaving my son alone."

"I don't think I've ever met young Draco for long," Fudge said, and put his hat down to frown at her. "Can't think of what I've done to him!"

"I meant my other son," Narcissa said. Fudge maintained a facade of perfect blankness that Narcissa knew wasn't put on. With an inward roll of her eyes only, she said delicately, "My foster son. Harry Potter."

Fudge acquired a purple tinge around his mustache that spoke of no good health in his heart. Narcissa found herself regretting she hadn't included a proviso in her Imperius Curse for Auror Dawlish about what to do if the Minister died of a heart attack. "Now, see _here._ The boy's made a fool of himself, spreading these wild lies! Nothing I've done but tell the truth! He could have withdrawn the lies at any time."

"And is what happened at Hogwarts another of those lies?"

"No one's talking about what happened at Hogwarts."

"On your instructions, I assume, Minister."

Fudge gave her a smirk that had a good deal of the simper in it; he'd spent too long as a flunky to Lucius and the like. "Of course. It's good to see that you understand how politics are played, Mrs. Malfoy. All you have to do is instruct your boy to withdraw the accusations. And then it's over. Simple as that. Neat. Easy."

"Easy," Narcissa echoed softly. "Really."

"Of course it is." Fudge leaned towards her and shook his head. "If you've been teaching the boy to play politics, better to teach him to stay in the background. He's not loyal to the Minister. Can never get ahead if he isn't. Tell him so, would you?"

"I would tell him so if it were true."

Fudge's face turned from tomato to plum to some color on the far side of purple. "You presume a great deal, Mrs. Malfoy. _Too_ much! I have a mind to have the Aurors in here. Lucius was good about the lessons that he needed to learn. Sounds like you might need to learn, too."

Narcissa ignored the words. Fudge had never threatened Lucius with being arrested for his Dark Mark. If anything, he had taken the opposite tactic, enjoying Malfoy money too much. "I am merely going to emphasize two things, Minister. The first is that Lucius is not me. When a mother wants her son left alone, it's more important than when a father does, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm sure we can all agree that fathers love their sons, too, but when their sons have done something _wrong_ —"

"And the next," Narcissa said, standing, "is how weak you look attacking a fifteen-year-old through the press. You might think about that."

As she had thought would happen, Fudge's face rapidly darkened into purple again. "Mrs. _Malfoy_ ," he said sternly, and then seemed to recover and shook his head and softened his voice. "No one seems to think so so far, do they? All listening to me. All following me. _You_ might think about _that_."

"You haven't faced me yet," said Narcissa simply, and walked out of the office.

He didn't call her back. He didn't have that much political sense, Narcissa thought as she trailed towards the lifts, shaking her own head, even though he'd been in office for years. It seemed that Malfoy money and other bribes had cushioned him so much that he'd never learned what he needed to know.

Narcissa thought her way kinder. At least she believed in _educating_ the helpless.

She stepped through the lift door into the Atrium, and spent a few minutes standing in quiet attention, scanning the available victims, before she chose one who looked susceptible: a tall dark-skinned Auror with lines around his mouth and near his eyes that indicated sentiment. Narcissa bowed her head and trailed towards him, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. She ducked as she passed him, apparently trying to avoid attention.

A gentle hand closed on her arm. The Aurors noticed such evasive maneuvers, of course, which was why Narcissa never practiced them when she was on a kill and Aurors were nearby. "I couldn't help noticing you were crying, madam," he said gently. "Is anything wrong?"

Narcissa raised her stricken eyes. The Auror had a bald head, but anxious eyes, and she managed a tremulous smile. "It's just that my—child is in danger," she said, and let her voice break. "And no one will help."

" _No_ one?" The Auror drew towards her. "How's this, madam?"

"Because the one he's in danger from," said Narcissa, and lowered her voice this time, "is the Minister himself."

The man's eyes widened. Then he nodded as if that explained things, or maybe he'd recognized her as Harry Potter's foster mother. When he darted a glance around, Narcissa thought it might be both.

He turned back to her and smiled a little. "My name's Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. Do you want to go to this café I know to talk about your problem? It seems like we might have a lot in common."

"Narcissa Malfoy," said Narcissa, and ignored the way his eyes widened. It was the Minister being the cause of the danger and not recognizing her that had put him in his mood, then. "Thank you."

* * *

"But why would the Minister care so much about keeping your boy under control?"

Narcissa smiled at Shacklebolt and carefully ate a small croissant. It seemed the cafe was run by an émigré from France and did the food well, unlike the inferior imitations that usually went by the same name in Britain. "Because he knows Harry could be a challenge to his political power if enough people believed him. And, of course, he doesn't want to deploy the resources and people he would need to if Voldemort is really back."

"You don't fear to say his name."

"Anyone who threatens my son is going to hear his name spoken by me _plenty_ of times."

Shacklebolt smiled, but there was a tightness to the lines around his mouth that told her how troubled he was. "You do have proof of the attack, besides the witness accounts? And removing the Dark Mark from the students' arms? Most of them are underage, so we couldn't use Veritaserum on them anyway."

"Yes. I have a Pensieve memory." Narcissa saw no reason at the moment to explain the difference between the mirror Sirius had used to record the attack and an actual Pensieve. "Would that do?"

Shacklebolt frowned now. "It might. But it would be hard to get everyone who needs to see it near enough _to_ see it, if you see what I mean."

"I do." Narcissa patted at her mouth with a napkin and then put it down. "But if we could spread the Pensieve memory around and give it to more people…"

Shacklebolt's eyebrows rose. "You could _do_ that?"

"With the special kind of instrument that I have, yes." It was true. Narcissa didn't see the point in lying to people who weren't actively hostile to her and her family.

"Then perhaps we could do something."

Shacklebolt sat silent for a long time after that. Narcissa didn't bother him. The café's food was good enough that she found several more delicate things to eat, and broke the fruit and dipped nearly everything into the chocolate.

"Yes, all right," Shacklebolt finally said. "There's one meeting of the Wizengamot open to the public next month. The Minister's going to attend it because he always does. You think that you could show this memory there? There's going to be lots of influential people who could see it and be swayed one way or the other."

Narcissa smiled. "What would I have to do?"

* * *

"Yeah, no problem," Sirius was saying the next time Narcissa looked up from her list of his notes. The mirror he had recorded the confounding of Voldemort with lay on the table, almost throbbing as crystalline magic poured out of it and into a bowl of water. "We can do this. But can we transfer the Horcrux to a portrait?"

"You're the one who came up with the theory. And your notes seem sound."

"But they're only notes. I don't know that I really want to gamble with Harry's life with them."

Narcissa reached out and patted her cousin's arm. "So many other people are gambling with his life. At least you're giving him the chance to live past the end that I think Dumbledore must have been envisioning for him." There was no doubt in Narcissa's mind that Dumbledore would have known Harry was a Horcrux, and no doubt what he had planned to do with that knowledge, either. Dumbledore liked the dramatic gesture, the grand notion. The sacrifice of a child he'd left to grow up in the Muggle world was not only not beyond him, it would fit into his plans.

Sirius was quiet for long enough that Narcissa nearly went back to copying out the letters that she would send to the reporters and other people she wanted at the Wizengamot meeting to witness this particular memory. Then he asked, a little hoarsely, "You—you think that he'll survive this?"

"I would never do anything that he would not survive. Regardless of how little he likes the lesson at the time."

"Oh."

When the mirror was done and the bowl of water glowed with the crystal, Narcissa put down her quill and leaned over it. She smiled. Yes, this was as clear as a Pensieve memory, but it was playing on the shimmering surface without needing to plunge her head into it. It should work exactly as the books of the Black library Sirius had found it in said it should work. "You are a genius, Sirius."

"I'm concerned for Harry."

" _And_ a genius," Narcissa teased, but she regretted it when she saw the tight lines forming around Sirius's mouth and eyes. "He will live."

"How can you know?"

"Because I swear it."

Sirius looked up at her. There was so much darkness in his eyes that Narcissa was tempted to swear it again. But she could not give _more_ than her word. So she held his eyes, and after a long moment Sirius exhaled and let his head fall forwards onto his hands.

"Thank you."

Narcissa patted his shoulder. "You're not the first person to have found out how secure life is when you trust in me."

* * *

Narcissa glanced up when Draco walked carefully into the room. He was stopping every so often to lean against the wall. For a moment, she wondered if he had got into his father's Firewhisky the night before for a post-Christmas celebration, and not been sober enough yet to cast a Sobriety Charm.

But then she saw something else about the way he was limping, and how he favored his bum as he sat down, and simply returned to her breakfast without a word. There were things she did _not_ need to know about her son's life.

"Mother?"

 _Unless he involves me in them._ Narcissa made sure that Harry was not sitting at the table, and then gave all her attention to Draco. "Yes, darling?"

He winced at the address, but met her eyes firmly. "How did you know that you were in love with Father?"

 _Ah. A related question._ Narcissa sipped her tea slowly. "I don't know if there was one moment," she said at last. "It was a process. We both saw something in each other that we needed, of course. Otherwise, our parents would never have consented to the marriage, or wanted us married in the first place. But when we got beyond the need, I started seeing things I liked, as well. I was happy to stay with him, in the end."

"But what if you don't fall in love like that at _all_?"

"Everyone falls in love in their own way, Draco."

Draco frowned at her beneath a curl of hair that she had thought had stopped being so rebellious long ago. Then again, he had hardly spent an ordinary night last night. "You're not helping, Mother."

"You know that we're not the same person, Draco. I can give you advice, but not the truth of your own heart. Do you have some reason to doubt that you're in love?"

Draco continued looking down at the table. His cheeks got redder and redder. Then he said, so softly that Narcissa could have ignored it if she wanted to and undoubtedly would have if she was Lucius, "No."

Narcissa smiled and went back to her tea, and the preparations that she would need to make for the Wizengamot meeting.

* * *

"Thank you for allowing me to attend."

Narcissa spoke to the Wizengamot members as well as the reporters she had invited. Some of the older witches and wizards looked disgruntled at the presence of other people in the room. Shacklebolt stood near the doors and looked straight ahead as befit an Auror on guard for the meeting, but Narcissa knew she wasn't imagining his near-smile.

Fudge was purple.

"What is the _meaning_ of this, Mrs. Malfoy?" he declared, waving his finger around. Narcissa thought he should be careful where he was pointing that thing. "Do you _intend_ to embarrass yourself on the world stage?"

"The world stage? At a Wizengamot meeting?"

Sometimes the moment was right, _everything_ about the moment, from the words one spoke to the words one's opponent spoke to the people listening to the quality of the silence. In the echo of her words, Fudge turned as brilliant a purple as a Hungarian Horntail's belly scales.

Narcissa turned and picked up the crystal bowl that Sirius had given her. "And _this_ is the point," she continued gravely, and poured the water mingled with the mirror memory out.

Instead of tumbling to the floor, the water curled and foamed about halfway between the bowl and the floor, and then reared up in a glittering crystalline cascade. Narcissa found herself stunned at how clear the images were, and she had _been_ there. Voldemort's glaring face was pure white. The Dark Marks bleeding off the students' arms were shimmering black, almost with the colors of a starling's wing. The brown of the Forbidden Forest where Sirius had hidden, holding the mirror up, looked as rich as honey.

When the memory finished, Narcissa folded her hands and turned back to the Wizengamot. "How are we going to deal with Voldemort's return?"

Voices exploded, but mostly at her use of the beast's name, and not disputing what they had seen. Narcissa smiled. They were discussing battle strategies against the right enemy now, and not against a fifteen-year-old boy.

She caught Fudge's eye. He was glaring with such malevolence that she wouldn't have been surprised at a transformation into that Hungarian Horntail.

 _You will not harm my son,_ Narcissa thought, and then, more idly, _Perhaps it is time wizarding Britain has a new Minister._


	19. Narcissa Rising, Part Eight

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Eight_

The owl fluttered around her bed-curtains and shrieked in her ear. Narcissa sat up, extending one hand so that she could find her wand. Agitated owls sometimes attacked the humans they were meant to deliver the letters to.

But this one only landed on her arm and extended a foot, hooting softly. Narcissa removed the letter and frowned at the writing, which she didn't recognize. But the signature at the bottom, when she unfolded it, was Dawlish's.

 _Minister Fudge is gathering up a special task force to go after Harry Potter. He says they'll arrive at Hogwarts at midnight._

It was twenty minutes to midnight when Narcissa flicked her wand and lit the crystal globe next to her bed. She narrowed her eyes for a moment. Then she stood and began dressing in the appropriate battle-robes, not hurrying. She would not _allow_ news like this to hurry her.

Into the pockets of the robes went several vials of important potions, a few of the devices that she used in her career as an assassin, and something special that she had saved up to use on Aurors. A rope draped across her shoulder. Narcissa tucked her wand into its holster against her side and paused for a moment. But nothing else occurred to her as something she needed.

She slid silently out the window of her quarters and used a rope to climb most of the way to Gryffindor Tower. She ended up going through a lower window, picking her way through the bedroom filled with snoring first-year boys, and taking her place next to the portrait hole. There was a small chance that the Aurors would try to come up the outside of the Tower to Harry's window instead, but Narcissa had set alarms there when she first arrived to be the Astronomy professor.

Then she waited.

* * *

At five minutes after midnight, she heard the tread of footsteps outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. Narcissa silently coiled the rope around her arm and cast a spell that made the stones waver and glow and part like water to her sight.

The task force was six Aurors and a small woman in the robes of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Narcissa suspected she was there to oversee the Aurors and lend an air of legitimacy to the enterprise.

Narcissa wanted to sneer. But she had no time for such nonsense, so she kept watching through the spell as the small woman bustled around the Aurors, telling them in a low voice that they were only to attack Harry Potter, no one else.

"The Minister does not want families in good standing to have the right to complain about how their children are treated," she said in a stern voice, and paused to stare into the face of one Auror who might be as intelligent as Goyle on a good day. "Understand?"

"Yes, Madam Comet," said the Auror in a tone of long-suffering.

 _Comet._ Narcissa had heard of her, as a sort of assistant to Amelia Bones. She wanted to shake her head at the waste of time and talent. Miranda Comet had potential, connections, and allies. That she would choose to follow the Minister in such a foolish task suggested that perhaps Madam Bones had made one of her rare mistakes.

It would not keep Narcissa from killing her.

She watched as the Aurors lined up opposite the portrait hole. The Fat Lady had long since fled from her picture, a sensible thing to have done (and which made Narcissa wonder if, in life, she had actually been Sorted into some House other than Gryffindor). The Aurors aimed their wands and braced themselves, counting down under their breaths. They would hit the wall with a combined blast of spells when they reached ten, Narcissa was sure.

Narcissa struck before then, spilling a potion at her feet and casting a complex illusion charm on the rope she carried and swung towards the wall, as well as a _Sonorus_ Charm on her voice and another spell that would prevent noise from traveling up the stairs of the common room.

"WHO DARES DISTURB THE SANCTITY OF MY HOUSE?"

The Aurors lost their concentration and gaped like fools as Narcissa's illusion stepped through the wall. It wasn't hard to imitate the hard features and harsh blue eyes of Godric Gryffindor, famous from a painting (not a portrait) that had hung on the wall of every Headmaster. And if her disguised voice didn't sound like his in life, well, _no one_ knew what Gryffindor's voice had sounded like in life. It was enough to see him stepping towards the Aurors and looming menacingly over them, as large as a Cerberus.

Madam Comet's mouth dropped open, and she looked as though she didn't know how to speak anymore. Narcissa's illusion turned and glared at several of the Aurors, while Narcissa moved the rope carefully in several directions, controlling the way the giant Gryffindor cocked his head and folded his arms.

"We—this can't be real," blurted one of the Aurors.

"Of course it isn't real." Comet appeared to have recovered herself. She cast a Dispelling Charm in front of herself, powerful enough that the illusion would have wavered in most cases. But Narcissa had used the variation that focused on a physical object, and with that object on the other side of a wall, Comet had no chance of separating it from the illusion.

"It looks real," said the Auror who Comet had been particularly scolding before.

"I am real." Narcissa let her own voice fall so that it was no longer pure thunder where it emerged from the illusion's mouth, and made the giant scowl at the Aurors. "I heard that you were coming here to destroy one of my Gryffindors. Is that _true_?" The last word shook a bit of dust down from the stones of the ceiling.

"Not destroy. Certainly not." Madam Comet appeared to have recovered herself faster than any of the Aurors, perhaps because she was the only woman in the corridor. She smoothed down her official robes once and then took a step forwards and curtsied to the giant Gryffindor. Narcissa thought, from her face, that she still didn't believe the illusion, but had chosen to go along with it for now. "Only arrest someone who is a danger to the Ministry and all our world, um, sir."

"You need to bring six Aurors to arrest a student?"

Comet's eyes narrowed a little, but she maintained the smooth mask. "This is an exceptionally dangerous student, sir. If you knew the full story, I think that even you would vote for making sure he's removed from the school and loses the ability to influence other students."

"Tell me who it is."

Comet grimaced, but did so. "His name is Harry Potter, and I promise that he's as much a disgrace to Gryffindor House as he is to every other—"

"The Harry Potter that fended off the man who claims to be the last descendant of Slytherin?" Narcissa laughed, a deep booming sound, and made the illusion fling his arms wide and shake his head. "What makes you think that I would _ever_ believe evil of him? He's carrying the tradition of fighting evil and Slytherin House forwards into the future! One of very few students in my House who's done so, in fact! You'll have to come up with a better story than that."

Comet gripped her wand tighter. This time, Narcissa felt the magic building up, rather than heard it. Comet was casting the spell nonverbally, and Narcissa was sure that it was the version of the charm that would dispel even an illusion tied to an object.

Too bad for her that the rope was still on the other side of a wall, which blocked the crawling foxfire green light of the charm easily.

Comet took a step backwards, her hand trembling on the wand before she appeared to notice and shoved her wand deep into a robe pocket. "You can't allow a dangerous student to remain in the school, sir. No matter _what_ he's done against a man who might be the last descendant of Slytherin."

"Tell me how he's dangerous." Narcissa had to admit she enjoyed the looks of confusion on the Aurors' faces as they glanced back and forth between the illusion and Comet. They might not believe it, either, but they would be wondering why Comet couldn't make the illusion simply vanish if it _was_ a fake. "What else has he done besides fight in a war that the lot of you shoved on his shoulders too young?"

Comet squawked for a second, and then got herself under control with a frankly impressive gasp. "He's rebelled against the Ministry, sir! Made insinuations that the Minister cannot allow to stand!"

"It sounds to me as though the Ministry has been lying to itself about the return of Tom Riddle long enough. If someone is forcing you to wake up and realize that you've been wrong, including that precious Minister of yours…"

" _Sir!_ Please do not speak about Minister Fudge that way!"

"Why would I care who's Minister, especially when they have a name like _Fudge_?" Narcissa made the illusion give Comet a look of such withering contempt that she actually did step back and blink, looking more than slightly unnerved. "What I care is that he's acting against a student in my school, in my _House_ , who's only fifteen years old. A fifteen-year-old needs six Aurors to arrest him?"

"If you understood how dangerous the extent of his political influence is, then you would agree with us."

"But I do know a lot about the situation, and I do _not_ agree with you. You will take your Aurors from the school at once, madam. And not bring them back. Tell your Minister Fudge that he should battle _adults_."

"I don't know who you really are. But I know you're not Godric Gryffindor. And I don't have to obey any order that an enemy of the Ministry gives."

This time, the dispelling charm was powerful enough that it really would have succeeded if the wall wasn't in the way. But still Narcissa's illusion remained, and there were sounds in the distance that she had been waiting for. She smiled and pulled back her control a little.

"I think you might be able to have a reception of your own, as befits enemies of my school." And Narcissa made the illusion vanish and took the _Sonorus_ Charm off her own throat, but maintained the spell that let her see through the wall's stones into the corridor. She wouldn't miss this for anything.

"What is the meaning of this, Madam Comet?"

 _Oh, good, Minerva recognizes her._ Narcissa made herself comfortable against the wall and watched as Comet tensed for a second before turning around and inclining her head. The Aurors shuffled and looked a second away from casting Disillusionment Charms on themselves in the vain hope of blending in with the stone.

"We are here on a mission from Minister Fudge to make the school safe. We are here to arrest Harry Potter, in other words. We can't imagine who thought it was a good idea to leave him here this long, but he's had enough time to hurt and corrupt the other children."

"You came at midnight? And without informing me of the need to arrest a fifth-year student?" Minerva's voice was low enough that even Comet's expression faltered for a second, before she sighed and shook her head.

"It's common knowledge that his foster mother teaches in the school, Headmistress. If we'd given warning, then she might have helped him escape. And the last thing we want is to chase a fugitive."

"You're still legally required to give notice so that I can admit you to the school and you're not uninvited guests." Minerva took a step forwards as if she was going to shield the portrait hole from them. "And you're required to notify the student's family members when they're underage."

"This is hardly an ordinary situation, Headmistress McGonagall—"

"It seems to me an extraordinarily ordinary one. One motivated by fear and jealousy and all the other things that have haunted Mr. Potter since he became a student at this school."

Narcissa gave a thin smile. It seemed that Minerva had finally awakened to the fact that this was part of an ongoing pattern of persecution, not something Narcissa had made up to make Harry feel "special."

"Minister Fudge is not jealous of Mr. Potter. How dare you say that."

"He doesn't have to be the jealous one to send Aurors into the school. Only the fearful one. Leave, now, before I throw you out. Apply to visit at a normal time in the daylight, the way other Aurors arresting someone actually dangerous would do."

"We're here now. You might as well let us arrest the boy. The charge is fear-mongering and sedition against the Ministry—"

"And what of all the other students?"

"Other students?"

Minerva folded her arms and nodded. "The ones who also saw You-Know-Who appear at the gates of the school and Dark Marks melting off fellow students' arms. What of me? I haven't gone around proclaiming to the paper at every turn that You-Know-Who is back, but then again, neither has Mr. Potter. Are you going to arrest everyone who says something the Minister doesn't like?"

Comet glanced over her shoulder, but Narcissa already knew no support would be coming from that direction. She had chosen Aurors to accompany her whose qualifications were loyalty and brawn, not intelligence.

Comet turned back and frowned. "If you're going to insist on us following outdated procedure that no one needs when there are enemies of the _state_ in the school, Headmistress—"

"We disagree both about the presence of enemies here and the date of the methods," said Minerva, with a sweet smile Narcissa hadn't known she had in her. "But we do agree on you following them."

Comet remained still enough for a moment that Narcissa tensed for the attack. And then she sighed and nodded slowly enough that it almost masked her putting her wand away. "If that's what we have to do for you to listen to the Minister and follow the law, Headmistress."

"I was listening to the Ministry and following the law long before you came here," said Minerva. She shifted in a way that, not subtly, blocked the portrait hole from the sight of the Aurors. "I think you should leave now."

The Aurors trailed away down the corridor. Comet followed, not without looking at Minerva again and again. Minerva never moved.

When the intruders had passed out of sight, Minerva did bow her head and sigh. Then she turned towards the portrait hole.

Narcissa made herself quietly vanish with a Disillusionment Charm. Minerva opened the portrait hole and climbed past it to head towards the stairs. Narcissa followed. After what she'd just witnessed, she thought that Minerva wouldn't make trouble for Harry, but she did want to be _sure_.

Minerva did indeed approach the fifth-year boys' bedroom, but spent a moment knocking and calling. Narcissa smiled at the sound of shuffling and muffled shrieks as the boys evidently dived out of sight, or wrapped themselves in blankets, or perhaps hid objects that weren't supposed to be in sight. Then Longbottom's weak voice said, "Come in, Headmistress."'

Narcissa leaned in behind Minerva. The boys were sitting up in their beds, staring at her. Harry's eyes focused on the slight shimmer of movement that Narcissa gave on purpose, so he would know she was there and watching. He smiled, nodded, and then focused on Minerva again.

"There were Ministry Aurors here who intended to arrest Harry," said Minerva quietly, and then waited until their gasps—and some undignified swearing from Weasley—had died away. "I want to know if any of you sensed anything or made a motion to defend yourselves. They seem to have been held here by an apparition of Gryffindor. Did you create it?"

Heads shook. Longbottom looked as if he wanted to faint on the spot for being accused of anything. Harry was the one who said, "No, Headmistress. Really. We've all been up here and asleep the whole time."

Minerva looked at all of them and sighed. "I could ask many questions and I'm afraid that I would find you were telling the truth." She shook her head. "I want you to be cautious. If anyone from the Ministry comes to question you, don't answer anything. Come and get me right away. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Headmistress." Some of the boys were slower about saying it than others. Minerva looked them in the eye until she had it from everyone, even Weasley.

She paused before she left, and added, "I won't let them take you, Harry. Minister Fudge has lost his mind, thinking he can send a strike force of Aurors into Hogwarts and kidnap you from under my nose. I promise I won't let them touch you."

Harry gave her a smile as weak as Longbottom's. Narcissa knew that had far more to do with his lack of trust in Minerva than any actual weakness. "I understand. Thank you."

Minerva sighed one more time, and then turned and went downstairs. Narcissa wished she could give Harry a hug, but aside from putting all the boys to sleep at once—too sudden for there not to be suspicion later—there was no way to do it. She caused one more shimmer of movement, and saw Harry's smile strengthen.

Minerva walked down the stairs and almost to the portrait hole. Then she stopped, took a deep breath, and turned around.

"Mrs. Malfoy," she said. "We should talk."

And she turned and walked outside again before Narcissa could respond.


	20. Narcissa Rising, Part Nine

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Nine_

"Are you going to tell me what changed your mind?"

Minerva grimaced. She and Narcissa had been in her office for five minutes, and Minerva had still done nothing more than sip from her cup and look at the wall. Now she turned around—she had a chair in the middle of a mostly circular desk, replacing the one that Narcissa remembered standing here in Dumbledore's day—and scooped up a drift of paper.

"Albus left all sorts of parchments and notes. This is a bunch that I didn't look at until the other day. I _didn't know_."

Narcissa gave her a quiet glance and bent down to read the parchments. In a few seconds, she understood. Even though Dumbledore never used the word, it was all too clear he was talking about Horcruxes.

"He knew Harry was one of these things." Minerva's eyes were closed when Narcissa looked up at her, tears slowly trickling from underneath them. "He knew it, and he planned to _sacrifice_ him."

"He would have killed Harry?"

"No—I don't think so, not personally. I think he would have sent Harry out to face Voldemort and let Voldemort kill him. There are other notes that say that's the only way to get rid of a living Horcrux. Have someone who made the Horcrux cast the Killing Curse at him."

"That's the only way to get rid of it if you only care about _getting rid of it_ ," Narcissa said, making sure to emphasize the last few words. "If you don't care at all about _him_. Sirius and I have a different way."

"I did hear that Sirius had his trial." Minerva carefully dried her eyes with a handkerchief that was far too tartan for Narcissa's taste. "What is the method?"

"I don't know that I should tell you until I hear more about why you're on our side. Is it just that the former Headmaster would have killed Harry?"

Minerva gave a soundless sigh that pursed her lips. "No. I thought about what Harry has been doing in the last little while. How he protected other students, how he challenged You-Know-Who almost on his own. And I'm sure that he had something to do with Professor Umbridge's death." She gave Narcissa a sharp glance.

"Perhaps you should keep accusations that could cut to yourself," Narcissa suggested gently, but let her voice turn cold enough that Minerva could expect to see her breath soon.

Minerva looked away. "He's a protector. A defender. And he's taking on all these burdens that I know Albus would never have asked him to take—because he was intent on keeping him a child, innocent until he had to face You-Know-Who."

"You mean ignorant."

"Yes, all right, ignorant. That's really what it was." Minerva's hands clenched in front of her as if she was growing claws through her fingertips. "Even now I don't know why he chose that way. Is it somehow connected to how you have to act to destroy one of those things?"

"I think that he might have _thought_ it was. But there's no evidence of that. If anything, perhaps he was afraid that Harry might survive a duel with Voldemort if he didn't keep him unprepared and untrained."

"Harry couldn't _really_ do that."

"Harry is a powerful wizard. And he has depths that neither you nor that other former Head of Gryffindor House have ever plumbed."

"All right. I can—accept your word on that. Now, can we discuss what we're going to do about Fudge and his blatantly _illegal_ attempt to arrest a fifteen-year-old with a detachment of trained Aurors?"

"Gladly." Narcissa spun her wand between her fingers for a moment. "If I can get an oath that nothing of what I say to you will leave this office, unless we both agree that the person you want to tell can be trusted."

Minerva tried to glare for a moment. She didn't have nearly as much practice as Narcissa did, and she was smart enough to admit that after a second. She nodded and drew her wand. "I swear on the dragon heartstring that makes the core of my wand that I will never communicate, by word, writing, or any other method, any information that Narcissa Malfoy and I exchange in this office tonight."

"Cute, but repeat the oath so that it includes information you _learn_ from me."

Minerva blinked. "I truly wasn't trying to have that be a loophole."

"Do it anyway."

Minerva did, and said, "Now, what do you intend?"

"I've thought for a while that we need a new Minister. Fudge is fixated on destroying Harry somehow, and at the moment, he's a greater threat than Voldemort, who shows no inclination to move again soon. We need to remove Fudge."

"You mean—"

"Not kill. That would be messy, and there are subtler ways. Now, let me tell you what plan I have in mind, and you can refine on it."

* * *

"Headmistress! Headmistress, can we ask what's going on?"

The Aurors had been trailing behind them shouting that for a few minutes now. Not as many of them recognized Narcissa, or else they might think it prudent to keep quiet. Narcissa kept quiet herself, walking beside Minerva. Minerva kept her gaze aimed ahead.

"Headmistress, please." An Auror finally stepped in front of them as Minerva aimed for the Minister's office. "We _can't_ let you go in there unless you tell us what's going on."

Minerva drew herself up. She was impressive when she wanted to be, Narcissa could admit, if what you thought was impressive were actions that made someone pay attention to you instead of dismiss you until it was too late. "I am going to tell Minister Fudge what I think of him sending six Aurors to arrest a fifth-year."

" _What_?"

"Yes, his fulminating against Harry Potter crossed the line into illegal action last night. Six Aurors, and a Ministry representative who protested when I wouldn't let her 'do her duty,' as she thought it was. You may well be shocked."

Some of the Aurors looked more than shocked, Narcissa thought as she glanced around with the slight motions of her eyes beneath lowered lids that would keep people from noticing she was looking at them at all. There was smugness there, and outrage, and some cautious relief.

 _They're as embarrassed as the rest of us. They've been looking for some excuse to get rid of Fudge, and now they have it. They'll want to make sure it sticks._

One of the relieved Aurors was Kingsley Shacklebolt, and he moved forwards to bow to Minerva. "You're here in your official capacity as Headmistress of Hogwarts School, madam?"

"I am." Minerva looked him full in the face, and seemed for a moment as if she would speak in contempt, but then she seemed to recognize him. "Kingsley Shacklebolt?"

"That's right, Headmistress."

"Then escort me to see the Minister, please. There's something in Hogwarts's charter that he needs to be reminded of."

Narcissa smiled. She was glad now that she hadn't got rid of Minerva. She wouldn't have been able to invoke the charter. It had little place in her world. She would simply remove the threat and make sure no one could find the body.

But sometimes the legal way was preferable, if slower.

Shacklebolt led them the rest of the way, and other Aurors followed them or lingered in the corridor or went back to their desks as their temperaments permitted. Narcissa watched intently as Shacklebolt knocked on the Minister's door. She couldn't _see_ any poisoned needles or other traps coming out of the door. It didn't mean they weren't there.

Then she considered how intelligent Fudge actually was, to have sent those Aurors to arrest Harry in the first place, and revised her opinion.

A ginger-haired young man opened the door. Narcissa recognized him as Percy Weasley, one of the students she'd helped to teach when she was working with Aurora two years ago. He looked down his nose at all of them now, although Shacklebolt was well over his height.

"The Minister is busy with affairs of state. Unexpected interruptions will have to wait—"

"Like the _unexpected interruption_ of him sending six Aurors and one of Madam Bones's assistants into the school last night? Thank you for giving me a name to hang on it, Mister Weasley. And excuse me."

Minerva pushed easily past young Weasley. Narcissa hid her smile as she followed. There was an advantage to spending years instructing so many young wizards and witches. Minerva would have faced lies and insinuations and excuses from them all before this, although about detentions and late assignments rather than Aurors in the school. She knew exactly how to handle them.

"Headmistress, you _can't_ —"

"What is the meaning of this?" Fudge demanded, standing up so fast that his bowler hat almost flew off his head.

"I would like to know that, indeed," Minerva said, and her eyes glittered and her robes moved as if they were made of metal on the edges and Narcissa held back her laughter because it would do no good right now. "What is the _meaning_ of sending Aurors into Hogwarts at midnight to 'destroy' a fifteen-year-old?"

Fudge went pale so fast that Narcissa thought he might faint. "That's not—there's not—"

"I'm sure that the Minister had a good reason," Weasley tried to intervene, his voice so pompous that Narcissa thought she could prick it and it would leak hot air. "Let's calm down and talk about it, and let him say what it was."

"I'm done listening to the Minister unless he learns better from his _mistakes_ ," Minerva all but spat. Narcissa smiled. She had told Minerva that she would need to be impressive to carry off this part of the plan, and it seemed she had listened. "That means, among other things, that he explain to me _now_ why he sent Aurors, and without permission, and at night, and six of them."

"That fifteen-year-old is spreading lies and sedition!"

"Such as?"

"That You-Know-Who is back! Ridiculous nonsense—"

"Even after the Pensieve memories that I understand you saw? Even after the reports of other students, and myself, and other adults who saw Voldemort manifest at the gates of Hogwarts?" Minerva shook her head. "Find better excuses for your obvious fear and jealousy of a child, Minister."

"Fear! Jealousy!"

"Yes. Now that you understand the emotions, you should find them easier to explain. Well, Minister? I'm waiting."

Narcissa savagely bit down on her lip. She wouldn't laugh. She couldn't laugh. It would mean that she would simply start _howling_ and wouldn't stop.

Fudge decided to launch himself at a different target instead of answering Minerva's question. "I am not answering any questions in front of _that woman_!"

"I'm afraid that Narcissa Malfoy has a perfect right to be here, as the foster mother of the boy whom you tried to arrest. Or exterminate. Whichever it was, Minister. That's in the school's charter, too."

"If he's _really_ her son, why hasn't she stopped him spreading all these vicious rumors and getting involved in politics that could harm his health?"

"Because I don't encourage my children to run and hide," Narcissa said, thinking that was the outside of enough. "And there should be no danger to him in politics that doesn't come from _Voldemort_ and his supporters. Or so I thought. But it seems that I've mistaken his enemies. You are one of them, aren't you, Minister Fudge?'

He looked at her, and his sweat seemed to crystallize on his face. He was far from the smartest of men—which had proven useful in the past when Lucius needed to manipulate him—but he could read her expression.

"You don't need to threaten me," he whimpered. "I never intended to kill your—your son."  
"I don't know that that's true," Narcissa said. "And anyway, I'm not the one you need to speak to. It's the Headmistress's domain that you invaded. I know she has some choice things to say to you." Then she shut up, and handed control of the conversation back to Minerva.

"The charter of the school says that no one except those connected to Hogwarts can intrude without permission," Minerva said. Her smile made it seem like her Animagus form was a lioness, which Narcissa approved of. "Even the members of the governing board need to ask permission to visit. So do parents. They are not considered to belong to the school. Even more so, then, the current Minister who neither visited me nor intended to _help_ a student."

"Headmistress—you can't mean—"

"I do mean it. I mean that you've violated Hogwarts's boundaries, the boundaries of an institution six centuries older than the Ministry. No one has ever dared attack us for long." Minerva reached into her robe pocket and took out a heavy iron ring. Narcissa had heard of it, and so had Fudge, by the way his sick gaze settled on it. "For this reason."

"I don't—I didn't mean to! It's just that the boy is dangerous—"

"And again, there are paths you could have followed if you believed that. We don't keep dangerous students around once we know they're dangerous."

"Then why is _that boy_ still there?"

"Because he is _not a danger_."

Fudge should have heeded the warning in Minerva's voice, but then again, he should have heeded it long ago. He blustered ahead. "I say he is! Besides the rumors that he's been spreading, his mother—"

"I did warn you, Cornelius." Minerva raised the iron ring, reached across the desk, and touched it to the middle of Fudge's forehead. He froze and stared, then began to blubber. But no sound passed his lips.

"I invoke the right of Hogwarts to judge if one who interferes in Hogwarts is a righteous leader."

The room filled with the sensation of a distant thunderstorm, and Narcissa felt the hairs on the outside of her arms rise. For a moment, symbols flashed above the iron ring. They moved so fast that Narcissa only knew what they were because the cycle repeated more than once. A golden lion with a scarlet sword clutched in its teeth. A black badger with a yellow cup in one paw. A bronze eagle crowned with a glowing blue diadem. And a silver serpent with an emerald locket around its neck.

The images blended a second later, and a creature that looked like a chimera—except for its distinctively feathered wings and the badger's head that had taken the place of the goat's—leaped from the ring and flowed towards Fudge. He might have ducked if he could. Narcissa knew it wouldn't have made any difference.

He sobbed as several objects in the office shattered. Narcissa noticed that one of them was the signet ring that Ministers still sometimes used to seal official documents, and another was an upright case that had broken and sagged open. Inside were the robes that Fudge presumably wore to the Wizengamot. They spilled out and began to bubble and hiss as black fire destroyed them from the inside out.

Minerva pulled back her ring. Weasley was gaping at her. Minerva gave him a faint smile and said, "Percy Ignatius Weasley is the witness to the Minister's dismissal from his post at the pleasure of Hogwarts. We trust that an election for a new Minister will be held shortly, and an Acting Minister appointed until then." She nodded to Weasley, completely ignoring Fudge as if that part of the room had ceased to exist, and then swept out. Narcissa followed.

There was an uproar behind them, but no one dared to stop them. Minerva sailed serenely down the corridors and made people back away from her. Narcissa waited until they were closer to the fireplace they'd come in by to ask, "Why did Dumbledore never do that?"

"Fudge was more of a benefit to him when he was alive," Minerva murmured as she reached for the Floo powder. "It was only later that he started being obstreperous." She hesitated. "And the ring needs absolute faith in its power to work, a righteous cause, and no negative bias against one of the Houses. Otherwise, it strips the Headmaster or Headmistress who tried to use it of _their_ position, instead."

Narcissa understood without Minerva having to explain further. _Of course._ Albus Dumbledore would have doubted, and he had had a bias against Slytherin House.

 _It was good to have help this time,_ Narcissa thought, as she smoothed out her robes from the journey and went to reassure Harry and Draco that they had nothing to worry about for the rest of their fifth year. _The more difficult it is for an enemy to trace this back to me, the better._


	21. Narcissa Watchful, Part One

**Title:** Narcissa Watchful  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.  
 **Pairing:** Established Harry/Draco and Narcissa/Lucius  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Content Notes:** Angst, violence, crack, AU  
 **Summary:** Narcissa will search out the Horcruxes. She will remove the Horcrux from her foster son's head. She will give her cousin Sirius a purpose in life. She will free her husband from his ill-thought-out allegiance to the Dark Lord. She will do something else then, because that is not enough to fill her life.  
 **Author's Notes:** Sixth in a series of stories where Narcissa is an in-demand spy and assassin and Harry's foster mother. Don't read this one without reading the others first, seriously.

 **Narcissa Watchful**

 _Part One_

"Are you sure we have everything we need?"

"Yes."

"But what about the mirror?"

"Yes. I'm holding it, Sirius."

"And the pure water?"

"It's been taken from a spring and purified by five different kinds of magic. If it's not pure now, it's never going to be."

"But what about—"

"An anxious godfather who keeps delaying the moment when we move the Horcrux out of his godson?" Narcissa cut in.

Sirius blushed, but then he stood up and started stalking around the drawing room, waving his hands dramatically in the air. "Excuse me for wanting to keep Harry safe! I thought we at least had an agreement that his safety matters most of all."

"Of course his safety matters." Narcissa watched her words fall in like calm grey rain on Sirius and put out the fire of his worry. If only she could settle all of it that easily. "I also want to make sure that the rest of us are safe, not rushing, and that we don't do something we might regret because we're looking over our shoulders until the last minute."

"Right. Right." Sirius sat down and breathed.

Harry caught her eye across the table. Narcissa refrained from shrugging. Sirius was angry and upset, still, that no one had caught the Horcrux in Harry earlier, and also that Dumbledore might have known and planned on sacrificing him in the name of ending the war. There was nothing that would help with that until the Horcrux was safely gone. Better to be patient and put up with Sirius's antics.

"You're sure about switching my Horcrux into the portrait of your mother?" Harry asked Sirius. His voice had a scratchy noise in the back of it. Narcissa knew it meant morals were coming up. But she didn't move to forbid Harry to discuss the subject. Harry had been forbidden much too much in his life.

Someone who was an honorary Malfoy, and due to spend the rest of his life with one, should have whatever he wanted.

"Why _wouldn't_ I be?" Sirius was gaping at Harry a little, as if he thought this was a trick of some sort.

"Because—because she was your _mum._ I can't imagine ever wanting to do something like that to my mum." Harry glanced at Narcissa.

Narcissa smiled back and said nothing.

Sirius laughed hard enough that his body quivered as if he was on the rack. "Not everyone's parents are good parents, Harry. Not everyone's parents help them or love them or hold them when they cry. To my mother, I was a disappointment, because I rebelled against my family and I didn't think I was a lord of creation just because I was born a Black. She preferred my younger brother. And her portrait is worse than she was."

"The portrait must be miserable," Narcissa murmured then. "We would be doing a kindness by helping it to pass out of life."

Sirius met her gaze. Narcissa only looked back. She would do what she could to ease Harry's conscience about moving the Horcrux out of him and into another being. That Walburga's portrait was the only remnant on earth of the woman was hardly enough to stop her.

And Harry had come to her only last night asking if they really _needed_ to hurt someone else to get rid of the Horcrux. Narcissa was going to get rid of the guilt. Harry keeping the Horcrux for a time was not an option.

Sirius swallowed roughly and nodded, all Narcissa needed to know her message had been received. "Yeah. I mean, my mother was a miserable woman when she was alive, too, but now she's all alone. My brother is dead, and my father is dead, and I'm the only person she ever sees come through that door. She hates me. She spends all her time screaming about how she wants me to go away and trying to summon our old house-elf to wipe me out of existence. I think she's forgotten that I'm not a portrait like her, to be honest."

Narcissa smiled at Sirius. He inclined his head a little.

"Okay. That sounds pretty horrible," Harry muttered. His face was pale, but he had regained the firm hold on the arm of his chair that Narcissa knew meant they were marching ahead. "I just want to make sure she doesn't suffer."

"If my research is correct, pup, it'll just erase her immediately. A living Horcrux can't be put into something non-living without destroying them both."

Harry still swallowed. Then he said, "Okay."

" _Are_ you okay, pup?" Sirius's voice was soft. He leaned over to pat Harry's arm. "We don't have to talk about it anymore if you want. We just need to do it."

Harry hesitated, then shrugged minutely and began to speak of something Narcissa knew he would never have said only a few months ago. "The Dursleys used to talk about me disappearing. They were always wistful about it. Hearing that this is going to erase your mum's portrait is...not great."

Sirius looked so angry for a moment that Narcissa thought she might have to restrain him. But slowly, he nodded, and his expression eased into thoughtfulness. "If it helps, remember that she's just a shard of a woman herself, imprisoned in a canvas, the way the Horcrux is a shard of a complete soul imprisoned in you. She isn't going to ever grow or experience anything else from now on. She's repeating the same old hateful patterns without even having company to repeat them to. In a way, getting the Horcrux into her and destroying them both is a mercy."

Harry didn't look completely convinced. Narcissa, who knew more about magical portraits than her foster son did, was even less so. But when Harry touched his forehead and said, "Okay" again, she knew he was convinced enough to matter.

* * *

"MUDBLOODS! BLOOD TRAITORS! FILTH ON THE HOUSE OF BLACK!"

Narcissa shut the front door of Number Twelve behind her and quietly observed what remained of her Aunt Walburga. She had to admit that Sirius had been closer to the mark than she realized. There really _wasn't_ much left of the woman who once would have greeted them with an icy stare, not hysterical shrieking.

 _Or, if portraits really capture the primal essence of a person, perhaps this is what she was like all along, behind closed doors._

"Shut up, you old hag," said Sirius, but without much force. He was too busy with setting up the bowl of water, the salt, the materials to make fire, and the mirror at exactly the right distance from the portrait. Narcissa was happy to let him. It took someone who had lived in the house for a long time to be sure the arrangements were correct.

In the meantime, Narcissa wandered over to a decaying tapestry on the wall. She shook her head. At least one house-elf was left, but Kreacher seemed to spend his time huddling in corners and muttering versions of the insults that his mistress shrieked, to hear Sirius tell it.

"Filthy blood traitors. Mudbloods in the house. Kreacher does not think Mistress would like it, no, she would not. Filthy Mudbloods make the house unclean..."

Harry stared at the elf who was standing near the bottom of the staircase in a dirty rag, looking a little sick. "He doesn't look anything like Dobby or the others," he observed to Narcissa in a quiet voice.

"No, he doesn't," Narcissa agreed. "This is what happens when an elf is left alone for many years, Harry. He would be alone still if Sirius hadn't escaped from prison."

"If I ever have a house-elf, I'll never leave them alone."

Narcissa smiled. "That is the proper way to take care of them." She knew that one of Harry's friends, Hermione Granger, had crusaded in the past to take away house-elves from the deserving. She was glad Harry had been infected by true kindness rather than Granger's nonsense.

"FILTH!"

"Shut up, Mother." Sirius took a step back from the mirror on the floor and took a deep breath, then nodded to Narcissa. Narcissa strode over to join him.

"I can light the fire as soon as we have Harry in position and the runes drawn on the floor. Be careful, though. Her shrieking is enough to distract anyone from rune-drawing."

"I don't intend to do the kind of drawing that will make me have to put up with distractions," Narcissa said coolly, and drew her wand.

"Cissy—"

Narcissa ignored him and whipped her wand in several sharp circles that she had learned as a child. The parchment spread on the floor, which already bore the drawing of the runes they would have to use to complete the ritual, rose and began to glow blue. It turned in slow circles, corners gradually bending down.

"Mum?" Harry's voice was a bit breathy, his eyes fixed on the parchment.

Narcissa didn't turn her head fully, but did feel a burst of pride. Harry had come so far from the scared boy who could barely bring himself not to call her "Mrs. Malfoy." "It's all right, Harry. This looks more dramatic than it actually is."

The parchment swung abruptly down and to the side. The runes drawn on it vanished. Instead, they hung in the air, made of light, replicated from the careful images that Narcissa had spent yesterday making.

"That's pretty dramatic," Sirius said weakly.

Even Aunt Walburga's portrait had stopped shrieking, Narcissa noted, though the fact was distant to her. She spent more time directing the runes onto the floor in the right place than she had removing them from the parchment. Then she had to pace the length of the circle and even lie down on the floor to make sure all the distances between runes and the circle were right. At last, though, she looked up and nodded.

Sirius lingered for a moment before he lit the fire. "What are those made of?" he asked, a little hoarsely, nodding at the runes that still glowed blue.

Narcissa smiled. "Pure magic."

Sirius stared at her, shook his head, and lit the fire as Narcissa called Harry forwards into position. He stood facing her, and the portrait and the mirror, across the circle. Sirius stepped behind him and rested his hands on his godson's shoulders.

"I come here today to request freedom for my godson, Harry Potter," Sirius began. His voice was strong and confident. Then again, that had always been his way when he committed to something fully. "He bears an unfair burden in the shard of the Dark Lord V-Voldemort's soul that he carries in his forehead. He would shed it."

"FILTH! You should be HONORED to carry my Lord's soul!"

No one paid her any attention except for the slight flicker of Harry's eyes. Narcissa took up the plea. "I come here today to add my voice to his. Harry Potter is my foster son, the companion of my blood son, and my apprentice in the ancient arts I know. This burden interferes with his ability to lead his life happily and learn his magic. I request that he be shed of it."

The ritual Sirius had found demanded two parental figures, or Narcissa would have done it by herself. She looked straight into Harry's eyes now and saw how he smiled at her. He had faith in them. Whether or not he _should_ might be a different matter. But Narcissa knew she and Sirius would try their utmost to relieve him of this burden.

The fire flared. Sirius nodded to Harry. "You speak now," he mouthed.

Harry didn't forget the ritual words in the solemnity of the moment, either. His hands clenched tight, and he whispered, "I am Harry Potter. Sirius Black's godson and Narcissa Malfoy's foster son. I ask to be free of this unfair burden."

The fire turned purple and gold. Narcissa blinked. She had read about that in the description of the ritual Sirius had found, but she had never realized it would be so bright. This looks like carved amethyst studied with pure gold dust.

"The fire hears us," Sirius said. His voice was a soft chant now. He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out an ancient silver knife that he'd found "among the Black treasures." Narcissa had decided she didn't need to know more than that. Sirius reached down and sliced the back of his hand with the knife. He didn't flinch. "And now, may the blood hear us."

Sirius's blood hissed like the fire itself as it struck the rune circle. Sirius scattered salt after it, and the blood and the salt clung together in tiny grains of glowing, sacrificial fire. "We will make the circle too pure for the shard of Dark magic. We will free my godson from his unfair burden."

"We will," said Narcissa, the required response, and picked up the bowl of purified water sitting next to her feet. She sprinkled it over the half of the circle nearest her. The runes absorbed it and shone like puddles lit by a distant sun. "May the water hear us. The elemental forces have greater strength than anything a single wizard does. We will make the circle too pure for the shard of Dark magic. We will free my foster son from his unfair burden."

The glowing sparks of blood and salt rose into the air, followed by the whirling blue shapes of the water-infused runes. Harry was staring with his mouth open. Narcissa managed to catch his eye and move her head in a sharp nod.

Harry swallowed and nodded back. "I accept the purification," he said, holding his arms out. "I accept the blessing of fire and water. I accept being freed from my unfair burden. Take it, _please._ "

Those last words weren't technically part of the ritual, and for a moment Narcissa was afraid. But it seemed the magic gathered here didn't notice them or actually liked them. All the light in the circle rushed into Harry, and he gasped as water ran down his face and sparks danced around his forehead.

Walburga Black shrieked again, but her scream was overridden by another sound, one far deeper and more primal.

Narcissa did not consider herself an evil person. She did what was necessary to protect her family and earn money that would let her protect them even better, and she disdained others who would try to impose moral judgments on her. Outside of those who threatened her chosen ones, she was not sure she would say evil existed.

But this was the pain of an evil thing, a shriek that welled up from the depths of a torn soul and made the house reverberate as few curses could have. Walburga shut her mouth under that cry, and Narcissa could only squint through eyes that watered with tears as she watched a boomerang-shaped piece of darkness fly out from Harry's forehead and pinwheel through the air, slamming into the portrait.

There was a low _boom_ that shook the house more than the shriek had. Narcissa found herself falling towards Harry, and flung out her arms to shield him from the fire.

Harry wrapped himself around her and toppled them the other way instead. Narcissa landed on the floor and rolled a little to absorb the impact of having her breath driven out of her. Exasperation made her mouth sting. Harry had acted this way because _he_ wanted to protect _her_.

She sat up when she had made sure that Harry didn't have any minor cuts or burns, and looked at Sirius. He was staring at the portrait. Next to him, the fire had gone out and there was no trace of the ritual circle on the floor. Narcissa turned her head to look with him.

The portrait was a long, jagged rip in canvas that dangled like torn parchment. The inside of the crack seeped with darkness for a moment, and made Narcissa want to look away. But she stared it down, and the darkness faded into ordinary damage to a painting.

"We did it."

Sirius said the words softly, but there was nothing soft about the shriek he gave a minute later. He leaped to his feet and waved his arms around, dancing in place as he whooped and kicked up his legs and shouted, "Take _that_ , mother! Who's the filth now? Huh? Huh? _Huh_?"

Harry sat up and reached towards his forehead. Narcissa grabbed his hand before he could touch his scar. It looked inflamed.

"Gently," she murmured. "How do you feel?"

"Lighter." Harry said it as though he thought she wouldn't believe him. Then he suddenly bent forwards and laughed, so hard and so long that Narcissa tipped his face up, fearing that he was becoming hysterical.

Harry simply beamed at her and flung his arms around her. Narcissa hugged him back, and reached out with her senses. Perhaps it was only hope or imagination, but she did think that she felt no Dark magic on him now, where before it had been a constant low hum.

 _One Horcrux destroyed. There may be others out there._

 _But my son is free._


	22. Narcissa Watchful, Part Two

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Two_

"What are you doing, Cissy?"

Narcissa smiled a little at Sirius as she laid down the carved wooden claw in front of her. It resembled a dragon's claw, but only superficially. Narcissa had spent hours carefully scraping at it, assembling it so that it bore the delicate tracery of scales and the talons were slender enough to look like the real thing.

Sirius was staring very hard at her. Narcissa spread her hands with an innocent expression.

"That looks like a phoenix's foot."

"It is."

"Tell me that you didn't kill a real phoenix to get the model."

Narcissa laughed. "No. I was in close enough quarters with a phoenix at one point to get a good look, and I used the Pensieve memory as the model." She turned the foot around and spotted an imperfection on the side. She bent down and carefully shaved a fragment off.

"I didn't know you could carve like this." Sirius was looking back and forth between her and the foot, his eyes narrowed.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Sirius." Narcissa said it lightly enough as she put her carving tools away, but that only made Sirius glare. He leaned back against the wall of the drawing room and looked around as if to make sure that none of the Malfoy portraits were close enough to overhear them—although none of them would have reported Narcissa to the Aurors anyway. They were too thrilled to have someone _proper_ in the family, as they had told Narcissa more than once.

"You killed Dumbledore."

"Five points to Gryffindor. How many years did it take of you knowing me after prison before you figured that out?"

"I suppose I knew it before. I just didn't want to acknowledge it. He was a good man, Cissy."

"He would have manipulated Harry straight to his death. Did Harry ever tell you what he and his little Gryffindor friends did their first year?"

Sirius frowned as if struggling to recall it. He might be it, Narcissa knew. While he was taking potions and meeting with private, Dark Healers to get himself back to health, Azkaban had stolen more than his youth. "Something about a stone and they had to protect it. Honestly, I don't think I was paying attention at the time."

Narcissa nodded. "Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts, as bait for Voldemort. He knew that the Dark Lord wanted to regain his youth and body. So he put it there and waited for him to come after it."

Sirius was staring at her in horrified astonishment. "But to put that kind of thing in a school full of children—it's—"

"Mad?" Narcissa lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. "I know that Dumbledore had a reputation for both strangeness and great shrewdness. I think the shrewdness was honestly exaggerated during his declining years."

"So—you think he wanted Harry to what? Stop Voldemort? But how could he know Harry would?"

"The traps that Harry told me about were supposed to stop a grown wizard. A trio of first-years got through them. And anyway, it's no longer my guess, Sirius. Minerva found papers in his office which confirmed it. He knew Harry was a Horcrux. He planned to have him die defeating Voldemort, to break Voldemort's hold on the world if nothing else."

Sirius's face turned so grim that Narcissa thought it was a lucky thing for Dumbledore that he was already dead. "He was insane."

"Too blinded by his plans."

"It doesn't matter. He was going to put _my_ godson at risk. After he didn't stand up for me to get a trial…"

Narcissa had no wish to lose Sirius to his brooding. She said briskly, "I have things I have to do this morning. Would you please make sure that Harry and Draco are occupied? There's going to be Dark magic upstairs and I'd rather they not come near it right now. It would upset them."

"Even Harry? I thought he was all right with Dark magic!"

"There's a large difference between the ritual we did to free him of the Horcrux and the one I'm about to begin." Narcissa picked up the carved wooden phoenix's foot. "I don't often ask things of you, Sirius. Please do this one."

After a moment, Sirius paused, then nodded jerkily and turned away. Narcissa watched him go with faint pity. She mourned what Sirius could have been if he didn't go to Azkaban.

As she mourned what Lucius could have been if he had not decided to take the Dark Mark.

 _At least it made him accustomed to obedience,_ she thought as she shaved a few more careful pieces of wood off the phoenix's foot and then started up the stairs towards their bedroom. _That will be a useful habit now._

* * *

"How can you be sure that the Dark Lord won't stop you?"

"What did I tell you about calling him the Dark Lord, Lucius?"

Lucius flinched and lowered his eyes as he began to take off his shirt. "Not to," he muttered, sounding sulkier than Draco could be sometimes.

"Exactly." Narcissa gestured for him to remove his trousers when he would have paused after his shirt. "This is going to be bloody. Unless you want to ruin that particularly nice set of clothes…"

Lucius winced and pulled them the rest of the way off. Narcissa circled him, admiring him serenely. He was indeed a handsome man. Part of her had chosen wisely.

And the choice was about to become even more wise, as she began the ritual that would free Lucius of the Dark Mark. Or the first stage of it. It would be necessary to do this more than once, and perhaps to vary it as Voldemort figured out what she was doing.

Narcissa scattered a circle of powdered obsidian around her husband, as black as the Dark Mark itself. Then she took out the wooden claw and handed it over to Lucius. "Scratch it over a small part of the Mark," she said. "No more than a fifth."

"How am I supposed to estimate a fifth of it when it curves the way it does?" Lucius whined, but he quieted at the look she gave him. He took the claw and considered for a second, then carefully scratched across the blackened skin at the head of the snake. Narcissa nodded when he stopped.

"It's better to have too little than too much." She took the claw back and touched the blood that had smeared on the talons to her tongue. Then she threw it from her, because she could already feel the magic from her husband's blood thrumming through her, connected to their marriage vows and the obsidian on the carpet.

"Kneel down."

At least he was used to doing that without complaint, and he did, his eyes fixed on her. Narcissa spread her hands. Sparks of dark red glowed at her fingertips, so brilliant that it was hard to focus on them. She could feel the light spreading out around her body, edging her almost in an aura. She turned, and the scarlet trailed her like a cloak. She put down her foot and felt power trembling through it.

" _Frangere_ ," she said, and she kept her voice utterly calm, her mind focused on the end result. " _Frangere. Frangere. Frangere._ Liberare!"

Her voice rose into the shout, and she heard Lucius scream. Narcissa turned around slowly. If she overloaded him with power, then she might end up cooking his arm.

Lucius was staring at his arm, where some of the darkened skin had broken and flaked off. He gingerly traced a finger up it, and then rubbed his fingers together. The blackness turned to nothingness and drifted away, to be absorbed by the sullenly shining obsidian.

Narcissa sank to her knees on the carpet. She knew this would be the hardest time, unless Voldemort figured out what they were doing and took some kind of measure to safeguard the Dark Mark. Now that she had broken one hold of the bond on Lucius, the others would begin to unwind slowly, like the snapped links of a chain. The rituals would merely speed them up.

"How do you feel?" she managed to ask, lifting her head and staring towards her husband with an effort.

"Better than I have in years," Lucius whispered in a shocked little voice. "I didn't—Narcissa, I didn't _know_ how much that was weighing me down." He looked as if he would have lunged out of the circle and kissed her, but he was wise enough to keep still when the light from the obsidian began to rise.

Narcissa held out her hands. She had discharged the power of the blood with her incantation, but the obsidian's magic had to go somewhere. She accepted it as it flowed back into her, and grimaced when it stung her fingers. That would be the last remnant of Voldemort's sullenness and hatred, then.

 _At least, in that portion of the Dark Mark._ Narcissa was wise enough to know there would be other struggles with the remaining pieces of Lucius's Mark.

When she curled her fingers into her palms, Voldemort's magic sparked out. Narcissa looked at Lucius and waited. He immediately rose to his feet and crossed the circle of inert dust, his eyes fixed on her.

It had been some time since Lucius had pleased her, with the oppressive magic clinging to him and Narcissa busy with other matters. Now, she lay back on the bed and spread her legs and let him show her what she could do.

Let him renew her memory of some of the reasons she had chosen him in the first place.

* * *

"I want to help."

Narcissa looked at Draco's face and tapped her quill slowly against the parchment she'd been working on, a list of other potential Horcrux locations. "What do you think there is to help with, Draco?"

"I _know_ that you freed Harry. I wanted to be part of that, but Harry told me to stay out of it."

"And rightly. The ritual is dangerous to magic that hasn't settled yet, the way it usually hasn't in underage wizards."

"But Harry—"

"Had to be part of the ritual as it was meant to remove the Horcrux inside him. Otherwise, I never would have allowed him near it." Narcissa softened her voice as she saw how shaken and small Draco looked, standing there in the great dining room under the gaze of his ancestral portraits. "What is it, Draco?"

"I want to do _something_ —and you keep hiding it from me and not letting me help—"

Narcissa stood up and came forwards to clasp his hands. "You're worried about Harry, I know. You want him safe, and you want to know exactly what's happening with his magic and what he's learning from me. Is that it?"

Draco paused. Then he said, in a softened tone that was much more mature than she would have heard from him a year ago, "I want to know, but I don't want to practice it. I know your arts and your discipline are necessary, Mother, I would never be so stupid as to say they're not. But I don't want to use them."

Narcissa smiled. "You don't have to. Not everyone is born to that kind of hardship."

"But—you wish I had been, right? You wish you could train me the way you're training Harry?"

Narcissa blinked at him. "Why would I? I have Harry to train."

"I mean, if you didn't have Harry to train." Draco's face was a brilliant red, and he turned abruptly away from her and paced towards the far end of the great dining table. "You would have wanted someone to follow in your footsteps, and I can't do that. But you would have wanted me to."

"I wish for you to be exactly as you are, Draco. Nothing more and nothing else."

"You would be disappointed. What—what you have done if Harry didn't show up?" Draco rushed on, before Narcissa could refute that she would be disappointed. "What if he didn't have the skills or he wasn't here? You would have to find _someone_ to follow you, wouldn't you?"

"Not exactly. It's not as if this is a business that has holdings and property that need to be taken over, Draco. I would probably have looked for an apprentice once you were grown and had children. I could have used someone else to protect my grandchildren in that case."

"I—might not have grandchildren now."

"Oh, I expect Harry will arrange for some by some method. He wants a large family, I know."

Draco flushed and stood there staring at her as if she had done something extraordinary instead of what she always did. Narcissa raised her eyebrows at him. She wondered if something had happened to make her son question his place in her heart. Of course she loved Lucius and Harry too, but he would always be special to her.

"I—never knew you were like that, Mother."

"Why would I not be?"

"I mean, I knew you could kill and you were a deadly assassin and you would die for me. But I thought you would care a lot about having grandchildren and you'd be upset that I was with a man instead of a woman."

"I see that you have mistaken me for your father, dear," Narcissa said gravely, and watched Draco's frown turn to light.

But, of course, he started frowning again just a few seconds later. "Father isn't going to take this well, is he?"

"Lucius shall do exactly what I tell him."

"But then he would only be taking it well because you told him to. I want Father to take it well of his own free will."

"When your father is left to his own free will, my dear, he makes stupid decisions like taking Voldemort's Mark."

Draco still flinched at the name, but he managed to control himself after that single moment. "I suppose you're right."

"Haven't you learned by now?" Narcissa came over to smooth his hair back and kiss his forehead as she had when he was much younger. He allowed it, staring trustfully up at her with his hands on her arms. "I am always right."

* * *

Narcissa opened her eyes, and then opened them further. She had last gone to sleep in the Manor beside Lucius, but this was none of the rooms in the Manor, not even the sealed dungeons that Lucius fondly imagined she didn't know about. Narcissa walked further into the draped, velvety darkness of this room, studying the tapestries with threads of silver worked into them and the shining ebony furniture.

"This is your prison."

"You seem to have constructed it more with luxury than imprisonment in mind," Narcissa said, turning to face the specter of Voldemort in front of her.

He sneered at her. Narcissa considered him dispassionately. He should have taken lessons. He couldn't twist his lips the right way. "Did you think that my acquiring your blood for the ritual would have no consequences?"

"No."

That seemed to have interrupted Voldemort's planned speech, so he scowled at her. "It does."

"And I said I thought it would."

"You cannot—"

"I can do anything that I wish." Narcissa had been watching the black tapestries twitch in an unseen breeze that hadn't been there until Voldemort appeared in the room, and she wanted to try something. "For example, this."

Her mind twitched and lashed, and the tapestries lashed with them. Then the room was lit with a miniature sun hanging near the ceiling, and Narcissa lifted her arms and found a lower ceiling a few centimeters from her fingers.

"You cannot manipulate this space! This is mine alone!"

"You need to learn how to guard your mind better." Narcissa smiled at him and whirled her Legilimency faster and faster. The tapestries blew off the walls in response and began to form a dark wall around her, made of flowing cloth and tassels. "The nature of our connection isn't like the one you share with Harry. You invited me into a shared space, and I can affect it as much as you can."

Voldemort snarled, an inhuman sound, and crushing force came down on her, throwing the tapestries back towards the walls and stilling the wind and raising the ceiling. Narcissa fought back, and while she couldn't make the room assume the exact proportions she liked, the tapestries came back and the ceiling lowered again.

"This is not possible! _I am Lord Voldemort_!"

"You're a child having a tantrum."

He hurled a bolt of magic at her, but this was an imagined physical space, and that meant Narcissa could imagine using any of the techniques of her discipline. She disappeared the way she would if she'd Apparated through wards and appeared behind him, then slapped the back of his head.

This time he turned towards her with a hiss of Parseltongue that Harry might have understood—though perhaps not, with the Horcrux removed—and gestured another bolt into existence. This one boiled towards her to strike her in the heart.

Or, at least, that was probably the intended effect. Narcissa interposed a tapestry between them, and it blew apart into floating, charred threads.

"As pleasant as this interlude has been," Narcissa said, "I must go home now. An assassin needs her beauty sleep."

She vanished through a hole that she opened in one of the walls, and raised her Occlumency shields high enough that Voldemort would be blocked if he tried to reach her mind again. Then she sighed and returned to regular sleep.

Voldemort would need to be dealt with sooner than she had thought he might.


	23. Narcissa Watchful, Part Three

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Three_

"What are you making, Mother?"

"A list of potential Horcruxes and their locations." Narcissa frowned at the topmost one on the list. She didn't know enough about Tom Riddle's past. While she was almost certain that he would want to make Helga Hufflepuff's golden cup, the only remaining relic of that particular Founder, into a Horcrux, she didn't know where he would have hidden it.

"Can I help?"

"Not unless you know more about the Founders and potential locations from Voldemort's past than I think you do." Narcissa softened the tone in her voice by smiling at Draco. "Never mind me, my dear. I will solve this problem as I do all the others. What can I do for you?"

"I told Father about me and Harry." Draco swallowed. He had no actual bruises on his face, but the circles under his eyes looked like them. "He—he wasn't happy. He said that I wanted grandchildren and I would never have them if I was _mating_ with a man."

Narcissa stood. Draco fell back from her, eyes wide, and Narcissa wondered why for a moment before realizing that she had probably freely used her assassin grace in front of Draco for the first time. She gave him a faint smile and patted him on the cheek. "Excuse me, my dear. I have to go have a talk with your father."

"You won't hurt him?"

"Only enough to _encourage_ him not to do that again, darling."

Draco smiled tremulously and moved out of the way while Narcissa strode towards the staircase. "He was in his study the last I knew," Draco called after her.

Narcissa showed that she'd heard that with a slight twitch of her shoulder and quicker steps. Her hand was at her waist, touching first the handle of an ornate dagger that she carried more for use in ritual purposes than for ordinary ones, and then the handle of her wand.

No. She would use the wand only as a last resort. Far better to use other skills to make Lucius understand that he was _not to hurt her son._

* * *

"Narcissa?"

She smiled thinly as she shut the door to the study behind her. This particular one was a modestly-sized room with bookshelves on only two walls. A long table where Lucius's father used to conduct business took up the south wall, with a magnificent view out the second-largest window in the Manor, and the large marble fireplace dominated the north one. Lucius sat at the central desk in the study, and he was already turned to face her.

In general, he seemed to have recovered more of his intellect since she had destroyed part of the Dark Mark. He responded to threats more quickly and spoke with some words and perspectives that she hadn't heard in years. But obviously, this hadn't taken care of _all_ possible stupidity that could spill from his mouth.

"What's wrong, dear?" Lucius was slowly standing, but he was intelligent enough not to reach for his wand.

"Why, only that you inflicted mental harm on our son when he spoke to you with honesty. What else would be wrong?"

Lucius clenched his jaw for a moment. Then he said, "I hope that you can understand I only want what's best for the boy. And children and marriage to a pure-blood woman would be that. I mean, look how well it's worked out for me." His voice reflected the cringing motion back against the desk he did a second later.

"Harry is being trained the way I am. Draco will have a spouse as protective and powerful for himself as you have. What does the genital configuration matter?"

"There needs to be a next generation of Malfoys."

"There will be. Or do you think that adoption ceases to function because your son has chosen a male lover?"

"There—there need to be blood Malfoy children. That one imperative has ruled the Malfoy line for generations."

Narcissa sighed at him. Lucius clenched his hand around an inkwell that promptly slid across the desk and dumped ink all over the carpet. Narcissa waited until the house-elf had popped in and taken care of the mess. Then she said, "There are rituals and spells that will make them as strongly Draco's blood children as if they were born of his seed. They can _use_ his seed. Did you forget that as well?"

"There are—my father said that there are artifacts in the Malfoy vaults that cannot be inherited by such children."

"Then you will sell them and use the money to purchase new artifacts that _can_ be."

"You do not understand! How can I give up my family's heritage?"

"Well, it will be a means to enable you to hold on to your life. I would think that would make you more interested in doing so." Narcissa moved a step closer, and made sure that her robes hung in a fashion that meant she could kick easily. Lucius saw the motion, and understood it, and paled further. "Which do you want more, to have 'pure' grandchildren or to be alive to see the ones that you will have?"

Lucius looked back and forth from her robes to her face. Then he said, as if talking to himself, "These young romances don't always last. It's entirely possible that Draco will give up Potter before they get to the age where they want to have children."

"It's possible," Narcissa agreed. "But if it does not happen, you will do nothing to distress either Draco or Harry."

There was a long moment when she thought she would have to reinforce the lesson, but then Lucius nodded in agreement. Narcissa came forwards and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, my dear," she murmured. "I'm so glad that we can have these disputes and then settle them amicably."

Lucius gave her a sickly smile and went back to working on what looked like a parchment addressed to Gringotts. Narcissa strode back down the stairs to find Draco and Harry and tell them the good news.

* * *

"If you are sure that you want me to reprise my turn as the Astronomy professor…"

"Several of the students in fifth year got Outstandings on their OWLS, Narcissa. And at least a few of the NEWT students likewise. And we haven't had any luck in hiring someone who will fill the role. I would ask you to take up the Defense post, but, well." Minerva looked tired as her face floated in the fire. "I haven't had any British choices for that, either. That means I'll have to pick a foreign choice."

Narcissa nodded thoughtfully. "What is their name?"

"She's called Idunna Freyasdaughter. Nordic, a practitioner of some of the old Norse magic. She keeps her real name a secret, but says she won't mind going by Idunna. I hope that if she only comes for a year and then leaves, that will be enough to satisfy the curse."

"A woman like that may be a better choice than some of the others," Narcissa agreed, although she would keep an eye out in case Freyasdaughter turned out to be another Umbridge. "Very well. You may expect to see me on September 1st with my sons."

Minerva smiled in a way that eased some of the lines around her mouth. "You might want to know that I also found some notes Albus made on the possible Horcruxes he investigated. He didn't locate any of them, but it's a start."

"That will serve to punish Voldemort," Narcissa said happily. "I actually think that I may have destroyed one already, in the past. A diary that had Tom Riddle's will and soul imprinted into it," she added, when Minerva blinked at her. "I didn't identify it as a Horcrux at the time, but I sent it into the Chamber to be destroyed by the creature that dwelled there."

Minerva looked for a long moment as if she wanted to ask, and then her wisdom got the better of her and she nodded. "Very well. Then we will speak to each other on September 1st." And she vanished from the fire.

Narcissa sat back, and half-closed her eyes as she began to spin a new plan. It seemed that she would have help on the Horcruxes much sooner than she had counted on. That meant she could concentrate more directly on punishing Voldemort.

* * *

"What's the Acting Minister doing here?"

Narcissa gave a serene smile at her sons as she escorted them through the pressing crowd in King's Cross to the train. Acting Minister Amelia Bones was standing in the middle of the wizarding side of the station with her arms folded and her mouth set in a thin line. Reporters clustered around her, quills scribbling away.

Narcissa was the one who had sent her the anonymous letter that she might want to be here as a sign that she guaranteed the safety of the Hogwarts students. That it took the press's attention away from Harry was a benefit.

Harry strode along in front of Draco, his hand resting lightly above his wand and his eyes so brilliant that Narcissa smiled proudly at him. He had got four O's on his OWLS, in Defense, Astronomy, Transfiguration, and Charms. Draco had only one less, although one of his was in Potions instead of Defense. And Draco walked more openly at Harry's side than he had last year, with a shadow banished from his face since Narcissa had confronted his father.

"Um. Good-bye, my dear."

Narcissa turned around to kiss Lucius, ignoring the way he flushed. Malfoys traditionally thought such public displays unseemly. Narcissa had made it clear early in her marriage that she did not care what Malfoys thought. "Good-bye. I trust that you will keep your head when you speak to our mutual friend."

Lucius swallowed. "If—if he calls on me."

"He will try. I suggest that you remain polite and distant and only respond the way I taught you."

Lucius nodded. His damaged Mark was incapable of forcing him to feel as much pain as Voldemort usually inflicted on the Death Eaters when he called them. Narcissa only needed him to stand up to the agony he _would_ feel, and send a letter that implied Narcissa was the culprit keeping him home.

Which was true, in the most essential sense.

Narcissa waved to her husband, waited for Draco to shake his father's hand, and then escorted the boys onto the train. Their compartment was one of the smaller ones, and although it soon became crowded with Slytherins and Gryffindors, the noise produced was of the kind that could be easily tolerated. Narcissa sat back with her eyes closed and her mind slowly stretching and turning in an imagined room of blue, swaying curtains.

She had come up with one way to pay Voldemort back. Time to see if it would work.

She reached out with her mind, hunting carefully through the immense, imagined darkness around her, and at last located the link that had bound them since Voldemort had taken her blood. When she saw it, she understood why she hadn't seen it very well at first. The link was jagged and uneven, flowing with red at the edges—nothing like the stronger link Voldemort had shared with Harry when the Horcrux was still intact.

Narcissa retreated to her own mental room, attached her end of the link to it, and started working on an arrow. She created every inch of it carefully, examining it with the eyes of her imagination after every new addition. In the end, she had an image of a gleaming black piece of wood, fletched with white feathers on the end.

The tip gleamed, made of razor-edged bloodstone. The symbolic implications were more important than whether the stone would hold that sort of edge in the real world.

 _This is not the real world. Except where I will it to be._

Narcissa held the arrow in the grip of her mind and opened her eyes for a moment. Harry gave her an understanding look. Narcissa had not tutored him much in battle Legilimency, but he knew the theory. Draco smiled at her.

Neither of them was in danger. Narcissa closed her eyes, leaned back in her seat, and then threw the arrow down the link that connected her and Voldemort, as hard as she could.

For long moments, there was only the sensation of the arrow traveling away from her. Narcissa could feel the vibration, the imagined wind, of its passage, and how it made the link that bound them shake like it was made of wind itself.

Then the arrow hit its target.

The shriek that filled Narcissa's mind was inhuman and piercing. Narcissa laughed. She had made the arrow of her hatred and her desire to protect her family and her determination to hurt Voldemort. And it had struck.

The pain that came flooding through the link tore apart the blue tapestries she had imagined filling that corner of her mind and tried to inflict magical damage on her. Narcissa twisted agilely aside. Voldemort was experienced at mental combat, but not while he was bleeding from the strike of someone he must have believed could not hurt him.

Narcissa intended to show him how very _badly_ his education was lacking.

Again the great downrush of Dark power came for her. Narcissa turned neatly to the side, and it went speeding past. Then she reached out and plucked the link between them until it rang like a harpstring.

Again Voldemort screamed, and the next attack broke apart like a puff of dust hitting a boulder. Narcissa laughed and raised her Occlumency higher and higher, until the corner of her mind that had been blue tapestries filled with dark mountains.

Then she opened her eyes and nodded to her sons, while Voldemort screamed and raged and battered like a fly on a distant windowpane. "I trust that you are going to improve on your study of Ancient Runes this term, Draco?"

* * *

A knock on the door of her quarters that night made Narcissa glance up with raised eyebrows. Her children had not looked distressed when they separated to go to their dungeons and Tower, and it was unlikely that Lucius would need her again this quickly.

Then she felt magic making her teeth ring, and sighed. The new Defense professor was standing outside her door, then. Narcissa made sure her wand was in her sleeve, and went to open it.

Idunna Freyasdaughter looked at her without smiling. "May I come in, or will you keep me waiting in the corridor in the most discourteous way possible?"

Narcissa moved out of the way. Idunna stepped past her. She had long golden hair that Narcissa suspected would have hung to her ankles if she hadn't been wearing battle-braids that curved around the top of her head. Iron clattered at her neck and wrists. That was unusual. One needed to be a powerful witch to work like that with iron, which was more magically inert than most other metals.

Idunna turned around. "I sensed the impurity of your power as soon as I sat beside you."

"I am a Dark witch. That is most likely what you sensed."

"I have been around those who use Dark Arts before. This was worse." Idunna's tone was precise, and her blue eyes never wavered from Narcissa's face. "This argued that you have spent your life honing your Darkness, turning it into a way to punish those who annoy you."

Narcissa studied her, intrigued. She had never found someone who could sense the discipline as a separate part of her, especially since the spells and devices that made it up were all ones that could be used in other contexts. "So you think that I'm going to poison the children at this school?"

"I think you could very well do so." Idunna's voice was quiet, but her hand flexed, fingers spreading and contracting as though she was going to grow claws and try to tear Narcissa's throat out. "I want you to know that I am here to teach children to _Defend_ against the Dark Arts. If you try to hurt someone, including me, I will not hesitate to stop you."

"Then I should tell you something in return, as a courtesy." Narcissa nodded. "I have two sons here, one by blood and one by adoption. If you try to harm them when they walk into your classroom, you will be sliced apart and buried in seven different graves while still alive."

Idunna's hand stopped moving. "So you _have_ poisoned a child," she whispered.

"He's received the poison immunity training, yes."

"That is not what I mean and you know it!"

"Then tell me what you _do_ mean." Narcissa's eyebrows went higher on her face than they had before. "What I can tell you is that you are incredibly tiresome."

Idunna clasped her hands together, and golden sparks began dancing over her knuckles. "I am a Light witch. I fight the darkness where I find it."

"And I don't make a point of fighting the Light, but I do make a point of targeting my enemies. You've just declared yourself one of them. Would you like to reverse that declaration?"

"Doing so would dishonor me."

Narcissa sighed. "Then fight me all you want, but the moment you touch my children or my husband, you will regret it."

"I would never target innocents."

 _And she might not think of Harry or Lucius that way._ Narcissa waited until she'd left, then turned and slid her hands into one of the trunks she'd brought from home but thought she wouldn't need until they found a Horcrux.

Well. One must be prepared for contingencies, after all.


	24. Narcissa Watchful, Part Four

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Four_

"Mother, I need to talk to you."

Draco's voice was low and grave, and Narcissa glanced at him and nodded once. He had spoken softly enough, and late enough in the Astronomy class, that she doubted the students struggling with their eyelids had heard him. "In a few minutes," she said, and then walked past the desks on her final patrol, encouraging them to finish up their notes about what new magical symbols they had seen among the stars.

"But aren't all the symbols we see in the stars just imagined there?" Dean Thomas said, turning around to look at Narcissa earnestly. "I mean, like the constellations. The stars don't _really_ make them up. We just think they do."

Narcissa smiled at him. "You are learning, Mr. Thomas. But the power of your belief is what guides magical Astronomy. If you _can_ see those constellations, or runes, or other figures, then you can use them. If you do not believe they exist, you can't."

Thomas blinked and turned back to his paper, as did several of the other students in Narcissa's NEWT Astronomy class. Harry was smiling slightly as he wrote down the last flourish of what looked like a complicated explanation.

"Please guard the door of the classroom while Draco and I speak," Narcissa murmured as she walked past him.

"Yes, Mother."

Narcissa paused in mid-step and let her eyelids droop for a moment. _Mother_. Harry had used it before, but never this casually, and she wanted to hold the revelation to herself and caress it.

They were in public, however, so she forced her head up and continued to walk, praising Miss Granger's innovative finding of several uncommon runes among the stars in Orion and Miss Parkinson's several imaginative uses of the constellation Draco. At least she no longer suspected, as she had last year, that Miss Parkinson might have chosen that particular constellation because she was nursing a doomed crush on the living Draco in the classroom. She had moved on gracefully.

When the class finished and most of the students had turned in their notes and stumbled off to bed, Harry strolled to the door and stepped outside it. A complicated ward snapped into existence a few seconds later. Narcissa smiled and turned to Draco.

Draco hesitated for long enough that Narcissa wondered if he was suffering a crisis of self-doubt. Then he reached up and waved his wand near his face.

Narcissa slammed the discipline down around herself as she saw the sunburst-shaped burn mark on his cheek. "How did that happen?" she asked, and her voice did not shake in rage, and her focus did not narrow to revenge plans. It was important to pay attention to her son's _words_.

"Just from being in the same room as the Defense professor, Mother. She didn't touch me, but this is what happened."

Narcissa blinked, then blinked again. That indicated a closeness to the Dark Arts that she had never suspected Draco had inherited. She had been sure that Harry would be the one to have trouble.

Then again, their discipline drew on a wide variety of neutral devices and spells allied to neither Light nor Dark, as well. Narcissa stopped her scolding of herself for not noticing before—it would do no good now—and asked simply, "Do you want me to do something about it?" She suspected not. If Draco had had that pure and uncomplicated desire, he would have come to her the minute it happened.

"No. I want to solve this problem on my own. I'll get nowhere if I have to let you and Harry keep doing things for me."

 _You would get to safety,_ Narcissa thought but did not say. She nodded. "All right. How will you endure classes with her if you are in pain?"

"I found a Dark shielding spell that's based on thoughts of how much you want your enemy to suffer. I can cast it without—Mother." Draco smiled a little, despite the obviously painful way that his burned cheek stretched. "I cast it the first time, without practice, even _though_ I got one of the wand movements wrong!"

Narcissa placed a hand on his shoulder, and then leaned down and embraced him when he looked at her expectantly. She hadn't wanted to embarrass him, but it seemed this kind of thing would not embarrass Draco, not yet. _Thank Merlin_. "I'm sorry for never noticing and nurturing your talent before, Draco."

"I wanted to do it myself. I've looked up some books in Father's library and performed some spells, but, well—it's the sort of thing that's hard to do right unless you have an enemy."

Narcissa nodded. "I will only ask that you not perform an actual spell on Professor Freyadaughter or attack her unless she attacks you. I had an idea the other day that might make her useful."

"But if she attacks me or Harry…"

"Of course. No one will ever be _that_ useful."

Draco smiled at her and leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "Thank you, Mother. Getting burned just being around her Light magic startled me, you know. That's never happened before."

"It could be that your sensitivity has increased with age, and it could be that she burns so Light she is a new experience for you. I would wager on it being both."

"That's what I thought it was, too," Draco said, in contentment. "Anyway. I'll take care of it. I've got several ideas." He beamed at her and ran over to the door, rapping on it lightly. Harry's locking spell broke at his touch, and the door swung open.

Harry took Draco's arm lightly, eyes fixed on the unconcealed burn. Draco raised the glamour and a challenging eyebrow at the same time. After a moment of tension that Narcissa thought would explode in violence, Harry nodded.

They left together, her boys. Narcissa doused the torches in the classroom and followed, so full of pride that the long staircase seemed to have turned to air.

* * *

"You would not have come to me without a good reason."

"You are right. I would not have." Narcissa stared at the handkerchief she was twisting around her fingers, and kept her gaze on it until Idunna sighed and opened the door of her quarters to let her in.

The quarters were ablaze with mirrors and candles. Narcissa angled her head a little so the dazzle of light wouldn't blind her, and turned around to face Idunna, swallowing.

"Do you know of Horcruxes?"

Idunna's wand was drawn in an instant, a spark of magic like rising dawn dancing down her fingers. "Where did you _hear_ that word?"

"It is more than a word," Narcissa said, keeping her voice small. She looked again at the handkerchief, although this time it was mostly so she wouldn't laugh. "It is a _thing_. Many things. The Dark Lord made them. More than one. I have managed to destroy one, and I think the person it corrupted will be all right now. But—I know there are others. And I've started dreaming about the Dark Lord lately."

"Call him by his right name. Call him _Voldemort_."

Narcissa gave a flinch that was exaggerated, but then again, Idunna wasn't to know that Narcissa had been using his name for years. "I'm afraid to in his presence," she whispered. "The Horcruxes haunt my dreams. I think there must be one nearby. But I don't know where it is, or how to find it."

That Voldemort would have hidden a Horcrux in the school seemed to Narcissa entirely possible. He had been obsessed with Founders' artifacts at one point, if what Lucius had told her of some of his ravings in the Death Eater meetings was true. (And it must be true; Lucius would not dare to lie to her). He had wanted to teach at Hogwarts at one point. He had made speeches about how he would restore Hogwarts' ancient glory.

And if Narcissa could use Idunna as her hound on a leash to find it, she would be happy about the minimum of wasted effort it would cost her.

"Why do you think one must be nearby?"

Narcissa backed up a step and gave Idunna the eyes of a frightened deer. "B-because I didn't have any dreams like this at home! And I've found myself—I never had such hostility to the Light before. But now I do. I find myself wanting to curse you at dinner."

Idunna lapped that up, as of course she would. Nothing Narcissa said was a lie, only a technical truth, counting that she had not had dreams of Horcruxes in Malfoy Manor. And most of the time, she had no particular hostility to Light wizards and witches who were not trying to hurt her family.

"I should have known that someone with your reputation would not go Dark so suddenly."

"My reputation?"

"Calm and quiet and graceful, and influential in persuading your husband to hold back when he might sometimes trample over others with his might and money."

"Oh." Narcissa clasped her fingers tighter and tighter, until Idunna reached out and gently plucked the handkerchief from her hands.

"Do not break bones," she whispered, Light glowing from her and playing along her wand and reflecting from the walls. "I will find this Horcrux. I promise you. And when it is destroyed, then your corruption should cease."

Narcissa bowed her head. " _Thank you_ , my lady."

"Idunna, that's what you should call me. We are fellow professors, and more united in the struggle against the Dark than I knew."

Narcissa bowed and stumbled and fumbled her way out of Idunna's quarters, then went to mark essays. This particular ploy would give her some breathing room to concentrate on things other than Horcruxes, and Light magic was probably better-suited to finding them than the Divination methods Narcissa had intended to employ.

She could watch Draco's progress in the Dark Arts, and continue Harry's training, Lucius's freedom, and Voldemort's punishment. That Idunna, reliant on the ability to detect lies that often came along with such bright magic, would believe her an ally only made things all the sweeter.

* * *

"Watch, Mother!"

Narcissa stopped in the door of the small room she had adopted as her training room this year with Harry, and watched as Draco raised a shield around himself. For a second, it glowed as blue-black as a piece of night sky, shaped and polished and stolen from the stars. Then it thinned and vanished.

Narcissa reached out carefully with a hand. She felt nothing solid, but the air seemed to thicken around her fingers as they approached Draco.

"You've mastered another shield?"

"Yes. This one just surrounds my face with Darkness and makes sure that none of her Light magic can touch me." Draco laughed and dropped the glamour on his face. The sunburst-sharped sunburn had already healed, Narcissa saw with sharp gladness. "I'm working on making sure I can have one for my hands, too, so I don't get burned when she hands my essays back."

"A wise decision." Narcissa looked across the room and saw Harry tossing his knives in the air, playing with them, but also proving that he could catch them and lie safely in the middle of a whirlwind of steel. He looked back at her and winked.

Then he gave Draco a smile that was as soft as the wind and as deep as that shield's color. And Narcissa felt another sharp gladness. Her son would have a more equal marriage than she had.

"I'm going to teach Harry how to defend against a certain kind of mental attack, Draco," she said, and saw the way her son waved his wand to dismiss the shield. "You will want to learn this, too, although the technique for you will be different."

"Why can't I learn the way Harry is?"

"Because you were never a Horcrux. You don't have that wound there. The way you defend your mind and soul will have to be different."

Draco paused, with his head tilted, and then nodded and sat on the chair in front of her that he must have conjured; Harry was better at arts other than conjuration. Harry sat on the floor beside him, calm and attentive.

"Now," Narcissa said, "there are certain people who can detect lies, and you can't do anything about that. A master Legilimens like Voldemort. A Light witch like Professor Freyadaughter, who burns so with radiance that she would burn through even the murk of lies in her own mind. You can, however, make sure that they do not _influence_ you into telling the truth."

"How would they do that?" Draco had turned pale.

Narcissa approved of his caution. "A master Legilimens might impose her will upon you. A strong Light witch or wizard might tilt you more towards the Light the more time you spend with them. I suspect that is one reason that Professor Freyadaughter was willing to take up a position at Hogwarts when it is both in another country from hers and cursed. She wishes to _save_ her students."

"Will she turn me into being more Light, then?"

"Not you, Draco. I think your natural affinity for the Dark is too strong. But there may be a chance of it harming others."

Harry inclined his head as Narcissa looked at him. "So that's what you're going to teach me to defend against?"

"Yes. And I will teach Draco the form of the attack that will keep a Legilimens from swaying him simply by being in the same room."

"Do, please, Mother." Draco looked revolted. "I know I can't resist the Imperius Curse yet like Harry can, but I want to make sure that I don't just crumble and do whatever Voldemort wants."

"You've been testing the Imperius Curse on him, Harry?"

"Yes." Harry's glance back at her was entirely unapologetic.

Narcissa sighed. "Well, make sure that you don't do it at Hogwarts outside this room, which has the wards to prevent anyone else from sensing an Unforgivable. Now, Draco, this is like Occlumency, but you imagine yourself constantly and fluidly moving, making a shield of the motion, instead of building a solid one like most people do in Occlumency…"

* * *

"I believe I have located the Horcrux."

Narcissa turned at once to Idunna, who had taken the seat beside her at dinner. "You have?" she asked, and let her surprise color her voice as worship. "That is impressive work!"

"When I know what I am looking for, it is not."

 _Of course not, since I gave you the first clue. Would you have looked for a Horcrux in the school at all if I had not informed you?_ But Narcissa let her eyelashes veil her eyes as if in modesty and murmured, "Do you need any help to destroy it?"

"No. I know several ways of poisoning such foul things. But I would like you to witness me destroy it. You can tell me if the heavy weight of your dreams and your hostility to the Light begins to fade when you confront it, or if they continue. If they continue, that would suggest another Horcrux exists."

 _I already told you that others exist, idiot._

"I would be most grateful, Idunna," Narcissa said, and went back to eating her meal, while making quiet plans to order Harry and Draco to stay in Gryffindor Tower and the dungeons and not venture out after curfew as they often did. She didn't want them anywhere near the scene of a Horcrux's destruction they didn't have a reason to be intimately a part of.

* * *

"The radiation of the Darkness is here?"

"Inside a wall, Idunna?"

"Ah, that is what I thought, as well. But I asked the Headmistress, and she said she believed that there had been a classroom here at one point. Or at least _a_ room. A hidden door. I suspect Voldemort thought he was being clever."

 _There are times he borders on it,_ Narcissa thought, and stood back against the tapestry of dancing trolls as Idunna aimed her wand at the wall.

"I am the Light against the Dark," Idunna intoned, and then went on, speaking more words in a language Narcissa was not going to admit she knew. The golden ornaments she had braided into her hair today began to spin on their small chains, picking up the light that seemed to exude from Idunna's wand. Idunna finally raised her wand and brought it down in a single, savage motion that made the floor tremble.

But nothing happened to the wall in front of her. Narcissa moved a hand across her mouth as if to conceal a gasp.

"That spell should not have failed," Idunna said, in a voice that sounded dazed from how much magic she had expended. Then she returned to shouting at the stone, threatening it, trying to crack it, and even stirring up what Narcissa recognized as a minor earthquake. Nothing happened. Voldemort's hiding place remained solid and secure.

"Have you tried asking it?" Narcissa murmured.

"What?" Idunna whirled to face her, her hair singed.

"Like this," Narcissa said, and reached over to knock on the solid wall. "Will you open unto us and show us the room where Voldemort hid everything he did not want others to find?"

There was a responsive shimmer of magic from the wall, and the outline of a door appeared. Narcissa began to move back and forth in front of it, and on the third pass, the door appeared fully.

"How did you know to do that?" Idunna's suspicious voice demanded behind her.

"I thought asking might work better than demanding," Narcissa said mildly, and slipped inside. Idunna came right behind her. Narcissa didn't mind that. The woman's magic was still the best chance they had to identify the Horcrux.

 _And I might have visited the Headmistress before we came up here, too._


	25. Narcissa Watchful, Part Five

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Five_

Idunna moved slowly into the room, gesturing everywhere with her wand. Narcissa stood near the doorway and watched in silence. Now that the door was open, she could feel the foul magic that she had sensed from Harry's Horcrux in the moment before its destruction by the ritual.

Still, that didn't tell her anything about the direction they needed to move in. The floor was covered with dust and piles and piles of rubbish, everything from torn cushions to crushed portrait frames. Narcissa shook her head a little. She could understand why this would make a good hiding place for a Horcrux, but not why it had become one in the first place. Did no students ever want to throw something _away_ instead of hiding it?

Idunna paused in the middle of the room and closed her eyes. Her lips moved in what Narcissa thought was a chant to restore some of her magic, and sure enough, when she opened her eyes again, they looked more like polished coins than they had. "Come with me now, Professor Malfoy."

Narcissa followed again. There were small, winding paths between the stacks, but no sense of order or organization. Narcissa smiled a little as she imagined what the Malfoy house-elves would have to say about this.

"Is something _funny_ , Professor Malfoy?"

"Not at all," Narcissa replied blandly. "Only thinking that I have underestimated how messy students can be."

Idunna paused. _Probably scanning my words for signs of evil Darkness_. Then she turned away with a curt nod and began working her way further and further into the room. Sometimes they had to turn aside to avoid a bedframe, an ancient wardrobe, or something else too big to force their way over, but not often.

 _Her magic is leading her to it,_ Narcissa thought contentedly. _And will hopefully help her identify any traps that surround it before they go off._ It would be a waste if her Horcrux hound died the first time she encountered one.

Idunna stopped abruptly and closed her eyes, swaying back and forth. Narcissa wondered why for a moment until she saw the air in front of the woman congealing, turning green and greasy. A snake-shape formed there, swaying with Idunna. Then Idunna barked a word and extended a hand, and the serpent dissipated into a shower of sparks.

"It makes sense that someone from the Slytherin House would use a serpent as his guardian."

"It seems to be a unique spell. How did you defeat it?"

That gave Idunna the chance to give her a lecture, which seemed pleasing to the woman. In truth, Narcissa already suspected it was a use of the Sleeping Serpent Curse, and nodded and gave her as much attention as she could fake while keeping an eye out for the Horcrux. The vibrating feeling of darkness was close now.

" _Halt_!"

Narcissa froze in place. Idunna was kneeling in front of what looked like a lamp with stained glass panels, but two of the panels were broken and their glass scattered on the floor. Narcissa let her eyebrows creep up. The lamp looked neither ancient nor sturdy enough to hold a shard of Voldemort's soul.

"There was a spell cast on this lamp that makes everyone the light touches cursed."

"Is the wick lit?"

"No, of course not. But it is my duty to destroy the lamp so that no one else can ever again be harmed by it."

Narcissa had practice not rolling her eyes at Lucius, and she put it to good use now. "I understand, Idunna. But will you still have the magic left to combat the Horcrux if you take care of the lamp now?"

Idunna tossed her hair back with a frown. "And you think the Horcrux will be such a strong battle?"

"Well, it is corrupting me, and it is keeping a Dark Lord alive." Narcissa lowered her eyes to the floor. "Of course, you are the expert."

"Then treat me like one."

 _Already the truce is loosening,_ Narcissa thought, but took care to wipe any trace of expression from her face and keep her tone mild and meek as she said, "Yes, Idunna."

The woman began a complicated chant that first repaired the lamp and then wrenched something within it, making it emit a long hiss of steam and a faint dying cry. Narcissa held back a snort. The curse hadn't been a powerful one, and in fact probably wouldn't have been able to work at all once the glass was broken. Idunna must have known that, with her "expertise," but the look of satisfaction on her face said she didn't care.

"Now for the Horcrux," Idunna said, and they rounded one last corner.

Narcissa's gaze locked at once on the silver diadem hanging over the ear of a cracked bust. Her eyes narrowed. That looked much like the picture of the lost diadem of Ravenclaw that she had once seen in an ancient schoolbook. It would make sense that Voldemort had managed to find and corrupt a priceless artifact. Narcissa shook her head slightly. He would have got much more good from being _known_ as the discoverer of the artifact; he could have had fame and fortune simply from that.

Of course, she had long since established that her blood had not transferred any traces of common sense to Voldemort.

"The diadem is corrupted."

"I will remain back, Idunna."

Idunna advanced towards the Horcrux and jabbed her wand at it. The air around it flared in a pattern of light like the bars of a cage. Narcissa raised an eyebrow slightly. Those were impressive traps, and she hadn't dealt with any others like them. Then again, Voldemort hadn't known Harry was a Horcrux, and the diary, if she was correct about it, had been meant to go out and corrupt others. Traps to prevent someone from touching it were beside the point.

"He has tarnished a powerful artifact."

"The diadem of Ravenclaw?"

"How did you know that?"

"I have seen pictures of it." _Does she think that no one in the world could know anything but her?_ Then again, Idunna's tendency to treat Narcissa as a child was what had allowed Narcissa to fool her in the first place.

For a moment, Idunna eyed her as if she had trouble believing that, but Narcissa only stared back blandly. In the end, Idunna shrugged and murmured, "He has done an evil deed. At one time, it was said that Ravenclaw's diadem could grant perfect knowledge to anyone who put it on."

Her hand twitched a little. Narcissa nodded to the web of intricate lines in the air, to remind Idunna of the traps' existence. "What do you think will be the right method to disarm them?"

"They are based on the anger and hatred that anyone might feel when they come near an artifact this Dark." Idunna laid her wand on the floor and reached up to unbraid her hair. It tumbled over her shoulders and down to her waist with one pull of a golden cord. Narcissa raised her eyebrows. She would have to study her memories of this moment in a Pensieve later, to see how Idunna had done that. It could be a useful way to braid extra weapons into her hair.

"What are you doing?" Narcissa asked when Idunna reached out bare hands.

"I have made myself defenseless. I reach for the diadem in trust and love."

Narcissa braced herself, but Idunna's hands did indeed slide through the dark lines as if they weren't there, and closed around the diadem. She caught her breath sharply, making Narcissa narrow her eyes.

But when she lifted the diadem off the bust, she didn't place it on her head. She smiled a little at Narcissa, using the condescending tinge without which she probably couldn't smile at all, and murmured, "The traps were anchored to the place where the diadem stayed. We now only have to destroy the Horcrux."

"Will you use Fiendfyre? Or basilisk venom?"

"Both those weapons are tools of the Dark."

Narcissa let her eyebrows rise slowly enough that Idunna turned to look at her and saw them. "Fiendfyre is indeed a Dark curse," Narcissa murmured. "But basilisk venom is neutral, like any poison."

"It takes Dark magic to hatch a basilisk in the first place. Do you _truly_ imagine that I would use it?"

Narcissa let herself take on a chastised expression again, and Idunna waved her off. "In the meantime," she said, and laid the diadem in the middle of the room's floor, before she began to conjure a sheet of silk. She then pulled a vial of something thick and silvery from her pocket and dripped it into the silk.

"Is that willingly given unicorn blood?"

"Yes. It will purify the silk into a weapon that can contain the diadem."

Narcissa did not need _that_ explained, but she again adopted that docile expression. Idunna tucked the diadem away when the silk was fully watered, and slipped the whole package into her pocket. Narcissa followed thoughtfully.

She only hoped that the diadem could not also possess people, and that Idunna would not find herself tempted to place the diadem on her head before taking care of it. On the other hand, if that happened, Narcissa knew she could take care of it.

* * *

"Mother, Professor Freyasdaughter was staring at me all through class today."

"Was she?" Narcissa kept her voice light as she watched Draco shape the shield he'd found around himself, a thin cocoon of blackness that only shimmered and flickered for a moment before it disappeared fully into his skin. "Has she burned you again?"

Draco shook his head and lifted his hand to wipe the glamour away with a swift motion of his wand. The sunburst had healed except for a faint lingering trace of pink on his cheekbone like a blush. "But it makes me wonder if she knows that I'm using Dark Arts."

"If she tries to assign you a detention, then tell her that you would prefer to serve it with Filch than her."

" _Mother_."

"She must not be allowed to get you alone. There are spells she could cast that would reveal your use of the Dark Arts."

Draco paused. "Even with the shields? The books said they were supposed to keep the nature of the spells I was performing secret as well as keep her Light magic from affecting me."

"It would depend on the Light magic she used. She would need time to prepare, and it would resemble a ritual more than an incantation. That is why she must not be allowed to have you alone. If she is in front of other students, she wouldn't be able to cast it."

Draco nodded, his eyes shadowed. "Do you think that if she does assign me a detention and insist that I serve it with her, I should try to get Harry into the same detention?"

"Either that, or have him come with you under his Invisibility Cloak and watch. He would be able to recognize the beginnings of the incantation and disrupt it more easily than you could when she can see you."

The beginning of Draco's glare of resentment died, but he did say, "How come you never taught _me_ to recognize the beginnings of those incantations, Mother?"

"It did not seem to me that it was knowledge you needed, when I knew you would never wield Light magic. But if you would like to learn them now, as part of the process of recognizing an enemy…."

"Yes, Mother. Please. I don't want to know what would happen if she managed to get me alone in a corridor or something."

"She would die. But that would come later."

Draco gave her a slightly uneasy glance, and then seemed to decide she meant that she would kill Idunna when she found out about it, when in fact Narcissa would keep Idunna alive for some time to explain all the subtleties of her displeasure to her. "All right. What are the wand motions?"

Narcissa showed him the first ones, and watched him write down the neat, precise descriptions he had learned to write from his father before he went to Hogwarts. Lucius was a master at that, one of the skills Narcissa valued in him. "Now you want to—"

She winced at the sudden explosion against the back of her mind. Evidently Voldemort had decided to try again to punish her for what she had done to him. She shook her head at Draco and said, "Study them for now," and turned inwards to focus on the battlefield.

This time, the angry, empty space between them, forged by the blood-link, was quivering and trying to form into something that looked like a dark forest. Narcissa sighed at the lack of etiquette some Dark Lords had and changed it into a drawing room. There were soft white curtains against the windows and the light of a dim grey day coming from the outside. Bookshelves stood along the walls, but before Narcissa could populate them, Voldemort was in front of her.

"You will _cease this_!"

He wanted to make her kneel, or so the blast of magic that hit her a moment later signified. Narcissa coolly lifted the techniques of the discipline against it. She had learned to use and wield deadly weapons and poisons from the moment she could place her hands on vials. She would not have succeeded without the ability to keep calm under any circumstances.

"Cease what, Voldemort?" Narcissa asked, when the onslaught had stopped. He was staring at her with his mouth open in a crooked kind of snarl, baring teeth that looked as if he never brushed them.

"Defying me. _Freeing your husband_!"

So he had found out about that, as both she and Lucius had predicted. Narcissa wondered if she should bring Lucius to Hogwarts for the next part of the ritual. At least he should be safe behind the wards of the Manor. "No. Why should I? He is mine."

Voldemort flung back his head and screamed. Narcissa waited until that too died away, then said, "You'll wear out your voice."

This time, the strength that reared up against her was like a black wave, and did crush her to her knees. Narcissa frowned when she saw the curtains and the windows wavering, and thick dark trees crowding in. "It's rude to change someone's décor without permission," she said.

"Do you even _understand_ that your life ceases today, Narcissa Malfoy?"

"You do enjoy the word 'cease,' don't you."

Voldemort slammed her with enough darkness to drown her—well, to drown an ordinary person. Narcissa thought that he still did not understand that she was not ordinary. She lifted mental shields against it so that the magic flowed away on either side of her. Voldemort advanced towards her, his hand out.

"I will draw your heart out through the chest wall and _eat it_."

Narcissa focused strongly. She had done this before, but admittedly not for years. She had had no need of this skill in most of her assassinations, and Harry had not reached the level where she could attempt to teach it to him yet.

As Voldemort's hand touched her chest—at least the ribs, not the breasts, he had some shred of sense left—Narcissa cast a spell in her mind. " _Colliquesco_!"

Voldemort screamed as his eyes began to melt out of his face. He reeled back, hands reeling to scratch through the disgusting black mess. Narcissa stood and began to strengthen her shields to drive him out. It would cause him pain, but not actually cause his physical eyes to melt. She needed him out of her head, now.

Voldemort was already beginning to fade. Narcissa slammed the shields down, and watched in some regret as the unfinished drawing room dissolved. She opened her eyes, to find Draco and Harry crouching over her with pale faces.

"Are you all right, Mother?" Draco whispered.

Narcissa reached up and squeezed his hand. It did seem as though she had fallen to the floor when Voldemort made her kneel. Disappointing. She would have to work again on the mental aspects of her shields. She nodded and managed to sit up. Harry helped raise her the rest of the way and escorted her to a chair while Draco fetched her tea.

"Thank you, my dears," Narcissa said, and sipped. There was the taste of a Strengthening Draught in the tea. Well, that made sense. Draco had probably fetched it when he saw her fall.

"Do I still have to do something about Voldemort?" Harry asked. His hand was resting on his faded lightning bolt scar, and his mouth was set in the thin smile he wore most of the time now when she was training him.

"No, darling. Why would you? Your Horcrux is gone, and you weren't the one whose blood he used in the resurrection ritual. _I_ will have to do something about him." Narcissa sighed. "I did hope to have some more time in which we could hunt down and destroy the other Horcruxes. But he is rude and annoying enough that he needs to be taught a lesson before then."

She smiled at her sons. "It's a good thing I'm a professor."


	26. Narcissa Watchful, Part Six

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Six_

"Are you ready for the next part of the ritual?" Narcissa held up the wooden griffin's claw she had carved—after a careful study of one who owed her a favor—and eyed her husband. Lucius stood in the middle of the room, in white robes that he seemed to feel would add to the ritual. They bared the Dark Mark, so Narcissa had let him think it.

"You're not using the same implements as last time?"

"No. I planned on it, but I know that Voldemort knows about my trying to free you now, so we shall have to change it a little."

Lucius turned so pale that he made the robes look like a good fashion choice after all. He glanced around as if he wanted to flee back from her rooms to Malfoy Manor. Unluckily for him, Narcissa had already shut the Floo. " _What_? You didn't tell me that."

"I did. You were arguing with me at the time about why you wanted to do this at the Manor instead of at Hogwarts. Is it my fault if you didn't pay attention?" Narcissa clicked her tongue. "Now, kneel, if you please."

Lucius cast a Cushioning Charm on the floor that produced an actual cushion, red, with golden tassels. Narcissa hid her amusement. It would not disturb the ritual if he wanted to do something like this.

Narcissa cupped the griffin's claw in her own curled fingers, attuning herself to the small ridges in the wood and the way that it warmed as she held it. Then she breathed out, " _I will_ ," and scattered the salt she held across the runes she'd traced on her floor. They glowed brilliant red as the salt fell on them, and then the white particles slid across the stone into the exact shapes she'd made.

Lucius gasped aloud. Narcissa nodded without opening her eyes. She had drawn the circle more of the will than her runes; without that will, they wouldn't have activated. He would be feeling it now, an immense pull on the next part of the Dark Mark that she had decided to eradicate.

" _I call you off_ ," she said, in the same tone of voice that she'd used to intone the first words. " _I call you to come to me._ "

"Narcissa—"

She shifted a little, letting him see the whip strapped to the side of her leg, and he shut up. It was only luck that his interruption hadn't been disastrous. But they were in a pause between the moments when she gathered her power right now, which let her name fall into the silence and fade away instead of creating ripples.

Narcissa turned in a circle, imitating the shape she had made around Lucius. The runes glowed and began to burn away the salt. Narcissa faced the circle again. She had to act before those brilliant flames died away.

" _Come to me_."

Lucius screamed as part of the Dark Mark crisped off and hurtled towards Narcissa, just above the glowing runes.

Narcissa held out her hand, and the runes flared to life at the same moment, an invocation of her will. The flames leaped upwards and gripped the piece of blackness that had come from the Dark Mark. It struggled, and burned, and flapped, and was feeble, and died away at last, leaving Narcissa to flex her fingers in the silence.

And smile.

"Take a look at your Dark Mark, Lucius," she said, brushing her hands together. The ash that had been the wooden claw crisped softly away.

Lucius glanced down, and swallowed. "The snake's head and one of the skull's eye sockets are almost entirely gone," he whispered.

"That's right." Narcissa turned in another circle, sweeping her foot hard over the floor. When she turned back, she had opened a gap in the circle of runes, which meant nothing bad now that they were inactive. She crossed over to Lucius and lifted her husband slowly to his feet. "And how do you feel?"

Lucius continued to frown at his arm as if he wasn't sure of the answer to that. Then he abruptly looked up and straight into her eyes.

Narcissa stroked his hair back from his face. Yes, _there_ was the sharp intelligence of the man she had married, the man who would never have fallen this far into the Dark Lord's schemes or done something that endangered his son or defied her to her face.

"Well," Narcissa breathed.

Lucius broke free of her hands with a sharp jerk, and scowled for a moment at the broken circle. "You know that I won't be as pliant as I was in the past?"

"I know. But at one time we achieved a mutual satisfactory level of both of us yielding and both of us protecting our family. I would like to achieve that level again."

"When have you ever been yielding about anything?"

Narcissa shrugged. "I did not force you to get rid of the Dark Mark when I first realized you had it, although I could have found these rituals then and carried them out, even against your will. I chose to trust you and see if your decision to follow Voldemort would repay us. I have not done many things I could have done, Lucius."

" _I_ will make my choices from now on."

"As long as they do not endanger Draco, Harry, me, you, or our standing as a family, I see no reason that will not also be satisfactory."

Lucius continued to study her as if he assumed she would suddenly change her mind. Narcissa smiled at him serenely. Lucius nodded, and then said, "What should I do if he contacts me again? Or attempts to enter the Manor?"

"Ignore him, as you have been doing. And if he does somehow send a message that makes it through the wards, then you can tell him that your evil wife is keeping you from acknowledging him as is proper."

Lucius hesitated, then nodded. "You know that he will target you more strongly than ever now."

"I am looking forward to it." Narcissa thought of the tantrum he had carried out in her mind, and smiled.

Lucius backed cautiously away, then departed via the now-unlocked Floo, as he had arrived. Narcissa stretched out her arms, humming pleasantly, and cleaned up the remains of the rune circle before settling down to mark the essays she had set the third years. Most of them were less muddle-headed than her husband had been made by his Dark Mark.

* * *

"Mother! Mother!"

Narcissa was on her feet in a moment with her wand in her hand when she heard that voice, and it only took her a moment longer to realize that the voice calling her name was Harry's and not Draco's. He clung to her door, gasping for a second, and then remembered his breathing lessons and said, "Professor Freyasdaughter got Draco to stay alone with her after class. I tried to stay, but she forced me out."

"Just now?" Narcissa was already moving, heading for the Defense classroom.

"Yes." Harry was running beside her, drawing a knife as he did. "Five minutes ago, now."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow in silent praise for how fast he'd reached her office from the classroom, and then concentrated on moving smoothly down the stairs. Harry exhaled and inhaled beside her in a steady rhythm. Although Narcissa wouldn't have needed the company to defend her son, she found herself taking unexpected pleasure in it as they rounded corners together and floated across landings where Hogwarts tried to move the staircases. Here was the proof that she had trained Harry well

They were outside the Defense classroom so quickly that it was a little stunning. Narcissa drew her wand and listened for a moment. There were no cries for help.

There were no sounds at _all_.

Narcissa concentrated one more time and then kicked the door in. It went flying; the doors of the classrooms were surprisingly flimsy, at least if one had spent time studying where to kick them.

Harry piled in behind her, panting. Idunna was standing with her wand pointed at Draco, but she twisted to blink at them as though she had done nothing wrong. Draco stood quietly, his hands clasped behind his back and the shimmer of his shields still around him.

"What are you doing with my son?" Narcissa asked. She was glad that she was not panting, but she didn't lower her wand.

"Checking him for traces of Dark magic, of course. The Horcrux influenced you. It might also have influenced him."

"And you decided that you needed to put a Silencing Charm over the classroom for _that_?" Narcissa asked. She made sure her voice was scathing, and Idunna started to draw herself up.

"The spell sometimes produces pain! I saw no need for the other children to be frightened by his screams if it did."

Narcissa bit back what she wanted to say, and instead said, slowly and clearly, "I deny you permission to interrogate or cast such spells at my son at any time. Are we _clear_ , Professor Freyasdaughter?"

"I'm afraid that my duty to the other children in the castle, to make sure they are not exposed to such evil, outweighs my respect for your permission."

Harry's hand twitched, and Narcissa knew without asking that he was trying to go for a knife, because it was what she would have done in his place. She managed to block him with a quick twist, and smile at Idunna, or give her an expression she could take as a smile. "If Headmistress McGonagall was forced to sack you for not respecting permission, then I think you might reevaluate your priorities."

Idunna stared at her, and blinked. "I do not understand."

" _I know_ ," Narcissa said, and then shook her head. "All parents have to give permission for their children to experience such spells, Professor Freyasdaughter. I'm surprised that you didn't know. It's one reason that Madam Pomfrey has to send off owls if she doesn't have blanket permission and wants to use a potion that produces enough pain. Last year there was a problem with a young girl who needed Skele-Gro, I believe, and her parents refused permission and took her to St. Mungo's instead."

She caught Draco's eye and motioned with a flick of her eyelid. Draco made his way quietly to her side.

"But—defense against the Dark is one reason that I was hired."

"And you should know Light spells that do not produce such pain," Narcissa said, softly, warningly. "I hardly imagine that you were hired to torture students, either."

"This would not be _torture_."

"So non-torturous that you put a Silencing Charm on the door of your classroom."

Idunna looked back and forth between her and Draco, and Narcissa was sure that she _truly_ did not understand. Narcissa would have felt sorry for her if she was not utterly sure that Idunna now deserved to die, and had not intended to let Draco tell her about the spell she had been going to use, either.

"Yes, very well," Idunna muttered at last. "If you wish to continue to expose other children and your foster son to the evil of a Horcrux, then I suppose I cannot prevent you, Professor Malfoy." She lowered her own wand and fixed glittering eyes on Narcissa. "But the moment I see him influencing some other child for the worse, then I will attack, Professor Malfoy."

Narcissa smiled thinly. "Have you made any progress on destroying the one that you have in your possession, Professor Freyasdaughter?"

"I am still researching the best way to do it without using Dark magic."

"I suggest you research the policies that Hogwarts has regarding children with parents as well," Narcissa said, and softly closed the classroom door behind her. Then she looked at Draco and waited.

"She didn't hurt me," Draco said. "She didn't even cast a spell on me, just on the desks and chairs around me. I could see the floor blazing like it had runes on it. I didn't want to move in case I did something wrong and got stung."

"Good sense," Narcissa said softly, and let her hand rest on Draco's hair for a moment. "Are you still able to attend classes with her? I can take you out and tutor you myself, or Harry can, if you don't feel safe."

Draco frowned down at the floor for a second, then shook his head. "I think I'll be all right. I'll research stronger shields in case she does try to cast that spell on me. And—you're going to let her live, Mother?"

"For now," Narcissa said. "But it is very much _for now_."

Draco seemed to accept the words at face value. Harry was the one who shot her a sideways glance as he reached out and hugged Draco to his side.

Narcissa smiled at him, mouthed, "I shall be impressed if you can guess which one it is," and then swept off and back towards her quarters. Her sons followed her. She would order the house-elves to bring a private dinner to them so they didn't have to face Idunna in the Great Hall so soon.

She would need to send a few owls, Narcissa thought as she set up a chessboard for her boys and then settled behind her desk again. She no longer kept the ingredients to brew such a slow-acting poison as Cadmus's Gift on hand.

But she would have them, and she would brew it, and then she could easily slip it into Idunna's food on one night when they sat beside each other.

No one touched her son and got away with it.

* * *

"Professor Malfoy, please come to my office at once."

The silvery cat Patronus was dissipating almost before Narcissa opened her eyes to see it, but she recognized both Minerva's Animagus form and her voice. She took enough time to slip out of her sleeping robes into ordinary ones. A summons in the middle of the night was urgent, but not urgent enough to make her abandon good taste.

It seemed that was not the case for Minerva, who was pacing about in a _tartan_ robe when Narcissa stepped through the door from the top of the revolving staircase. Narcissa cast a spell to ease the impact on her eyes and then stood waiting.

Minerva turned to face her, expression so deeply troubled that it seemed as if she might begin to weep at any moment. "Voldemort has conducted an attack on a small village where a number of Muggleborns resided."

Narcissa nodded slowly. She was surprised she hadn't felt anything through the blood link, but perhaps Voldemort had learned better than to come into her mind. _A trifle disappointing._ "Why call me in the middle of the night about this? Did one of Harry's classmates or someone Draco knows die?"

"No." Minerva hesitated. "Voldemort placed the Dark Mark in the sky above the village, but he also placed a lightning bolt like the one on Harry's head. I fear that this is a new distraction technique and that other wizards will begin to blame Harry for the attack, or even assume he has joined Voldemort."

"They will not say such to my face."

"No, but they don't necessarily have to. You know how fast gossip spreads in this school."

Narcissa considered it for a moment, then inclined her head. "Thank you for telling me, Headmistress. I will handle this, and prepare Harry for a new obstacle coming his way. It is hardly as though this is his first."

"I wish it was," Minerva said bluntly. "He should never have had to fight this war. But we might as well wish that he had never been targeted by Voldemort in the first place." She sighed. "The village was wiped out entirely, both Muggleborns and Muggles tortured in—I can put the memory of the Auror's report into a Pensieve for you if you wish. I can't speak of it."

"Perhaps I'll ask for the memory later. I have work to do now, and there is nothing I would wish Harry to do about it in any case."

"Yes. I think that's best. Good night, Professor Malfoy."

Narcissa nodded back to the Headmistress, and returned thoughtfully to her office. Yes, Voldemort had acted against one of her sons just as Idunna had. But he had done so much else that a slow-acting poison would not suffice for him.

Narcissa thought until she recalled something she had learned early on her training about blood links. It had been a small note in the margin of a much larger tome, one she had never pursued since her tutors said it was the kind of sympathetic magic that hardly ever worked.

But now…

Narcissa called one of the Malfoy house-elves to fetch her the book and one of the Hogwarts ones to bring her a mug of hot chocolate, and then settled down to drink and read. It was a weakness, one she had never trained herself out of, that she had trouble going back to sleep when her slumber had been so abruptly broken in on.

For now, she would use the time.


	27. Narcissa Watchful, Part Seven

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Seven_

"You wanted to see me, Mother?" Harry was leaning against the wall of her office near the door, his hands flicking restlessly as he played with the knives that hung in his belt.

Narcissa glanced at him and nodded. "You read in the _Daily Prophet_ about the attack that Voldemort tried to blame you for last night?"

Harry snorted a little. "Read about it? I didn't even get the chance. Seamus woke me up and insisted that I'd probably participated in it, and why was I lying around in bed instead of packing my trunk?"

"I find that I particularly dislike your Housemate Seamus."

"Oh, don't do anything permanent to him, please, Mother. He changes his mind about everything at the drop of a pointed hat, but he's never moved to harm me."

"His words cut you deeply enough."

Harry's eyes slid shut for a moment, and he nodded. "But not as deeply as some of the things people could be doing," he said. "And I'd rather save my time and energy for _those_ people. Like Umbridge."

"Very well. Then I leave it up to you how you want to handle the publicity surrounding the attack. _I_ , of course, will be making sure that Voldemort spends most of his time left alive suffering."

Harry grinned at her and moved across the office to kiss her on the cheek. "I knew there was a reason that you were my favorite foster mother and assassin mentor."

Narcissa cupped her hand around the back of his neck for a moment, marveling at how much might have been different if Draco hadn't sullenly expressed his desire for Harry Potter to pay attention to him in his first year. "Happy hunting, son."

Harry gave her a smile and slipped out the door.

* * *

Narcissa put Cadmus's Gift into Idunna's tea the next morning. It was pathetically easy. Despite the amount of detection charms hovering around Idunna's person, and the gold chains braided into her hair, and the way she bragged that she was so Light that Dark magic would simply wither around her, nothing reacted as Narcissa turned the poison invisible and sent it pouring in from a distance with a modified _Aguamenti_ Charm.

Of course, that might be because Cadmus's Gift was a fantastically rare poison and Idunna believed that she shouldn't have to defend herself from it at all, or didn't know it existed. But in that case, Narcissa could only disapprove of her lack of paranoia.

It would take time for the poison to take effect. Narcissa did not care. Idunna deserved a slow death. And if she tried to harm or corner Draco again, then Narcissa could speed the process up.

Or use more than one method to hurt her. That possibility was sweet as well.

* * *

"Professor Malfoy, I don't understand why you can continue to have Potter in this class! He might hurt someone!"

That was Hannah Abbott, one of the brainless girls who should be glad that Hufflepuff existed, as she wouldn't have fit in anywhere else. Narcissa turned around politely from the front of the classroom. Harry's shoulders had hunched momentarily before his face blanked and turned smooth, and he faced his start chart again.

Narcissa had told him that she would leave the publicity about the attack to him, but it made a difference when that negative publicity invaded _her classroom_.

"Perhaps, Miss Abbott," Narcissa said politely, "you might consider that the tactic of placing a green and black lightning bolt beside a Dark Mark is a pathetically obvious one meant to stir fear and confusion? In other words, it fits exactly the dissension that Voldemort has tried to sow in the past. I don't know why you, in particular, are falling for this distraction, but you might want to visit Madam Pomfrey to make sure that enough blood is circulating in your brain."

Some other members of the NEWT class giggled, but Abbott only flushed heavily. "He could still be dangerous!"

Harry leaned back in his chair and exchanged an amused glance with her. Of _course_ he was dangerous, but not in the way that Abbott was thinking of. Knowing that he could slit her throat in an instant and be out of range before the girl's blood had sprayed the students sitting next to her calmed Narcissa.

"And so could anyone here who is a sixth-year wizard trained in some of the spells you have learned in classes. However, only one person here is currently being _disruptive_ , Miss Abbott."

"You're just trying to cover for him because he's your foster son!"

Narcissa sighed. "Detention, Miss Abbott. I believe that you may not have done your homework, and you are trying to distract me?"

As it turned out, she _knew_ Abbott hadn't done her homework, since she'd overheard her chattering about it with her friends as she came into the classroom. But Abbott flushed as though that was unfair, and was quiet for the rest of the class. Honestly, that was all Narcissa wanted. She highly doubted a Hufflepuff would dare confront her son.

Abbott did dare to come up to her at the conclusion of class, her face set in that classically stubborn Hufflepuff expression. "I'm just _concerned_ about having a student in class who could threaten us, Professor Malfoy."

"And as I said before, anyone could do that," Narcissa said, moving the homework she had received into a neat stack. "If you are seriously concerned, however, then you could appeal to the Board of Governors."

Bones, another Hufflepuff girl hovering behind Abbott, opened her mouth, but Abbott seemed determined to carry out her suicidal impulses today. "But your husband is on the Board of Governors! That's not fair, either!"

"Then complain to the Headmistress."

"But she was Potter's Head of House!"

"If every recourse to justice is unjust," Narcissa told her softly, "then perhaps you should think about the justice of your _complaint_."

Bones tugged on Abbott's arm. It didn't work. Abbott lifted her nose and said, "I don't feel safe in a classroom with Potter. What happened if I stopped attending class?"

"You would receive a failing mark in NEWT Astronomy, Miss Abbott."

Abbott only stared at her with her lips slightly parted. Narcissa looked back, more than a little bored. Honestly, the girl was probably used to professors catering to her because was a Hufflepuff, or pure-blood, or a pretty girl, or something of that kind. She hadn't yet realized that she held no power in Narcissa's classroom.

"I'm going to talk to the Headmistress," Abbott finally said, and swept out of the classroom looking as if the world had tilted beneath her feet and she didn't understand it. Susan Bones sighed and followed her, after giving a slightly apologetic look towards Harry, Narcissa was interested to note.

"You've had trouble with them?" Narcissa asked, when she and Harry were the only ones left.

Harry shrugged and gathered up the satchel. He was training with new weapons today, Narcissa noted, given the careful way he moved so as not to disturb or reveal the blades under his clothing. "Not lately. That group of Hufflepuffs thought I was evil for a while because I can speak Parseltongue."

Narcissa nodded understandingly. Well, as long as Harry was not losing dear friends and none of them made a physical move to harm him, Narcissa would tolerate their childishness. "Get on now, dear. You've already lost enough sleep to these late classes as it is."

Harry smiled at her and left, the sound of his footsteps melting into silence on the stairs of the Astronomy Tower far faster than the other students'. Narcissa turned and faced one of the great open arched windows of the classroom.

She had researched in the tome she remembered and other books until she was sure that this form of sympathetic magic would work. It helped that Voldemort had stolen _her_ blood, specifically; if he had taken the blood from several people, or even from other members of the Black or Malfoy family, the magic she used now would have affected them as well. But she could use the individual link and subdue the effects when they tried to come for her.

Narcissa picked up the small cauldron that had sat behind the desk, out of sight of the students, and carried it to the window. Unlike a potion, it had no liquid base at the moment. It was simply a collection of ingredients: the caps of amanita mushrooms, shredded leaves of belladonna, the swim bladder of a blowfish, the legs of a brown recluse spider, the stinger of a tarantula hawk wasp, the shell of a cone snail, the wing feathers of a blue-capped ifrit, the flayed skin of a poison dart frog, the fangs of a black mamba, the tail of a water shrew, and a dollop of cholera-infested water. Narcissa aligned the cauldron so that the starlight that came through the nearest window was falling on it and picked up a knife.

Her research into Astronomy would stand her in good stead after all. Sooner or later, Voldemort would be touched by the starlight.

"Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr.," Narcissa said, speaking carefully. The ritual required true names, but it was impossible to tell at this point which one he thought was more real or really his. "By the connection of our blood, I curse you. Cursed to you be flesh of fungus, plant, fish, arachnid, insect, mollusc, bird, amphibian, reptile, and mammal. Cursed to you be the water. By the blood we share, suffer my curse."

She cut her finger, and the blood spread carefully down the silver knife and began to drip off the edge. Narcissa positioned the blade so that every ingredient received a portion of her blood. When the glimmering water had become infested with it, the whole cauldron began to glow.

Narcissa stepped back and healed her hand. The cauldron shone more and more brilliantly, with a mingled red and silver light that reminded Narcissa of some of the moon-runes that Lucius's ancestors had used in the warding of Malfoy Manor. Then the light narrowed into a single point and sped rapidly away up the beam of starlight.

Narcissa braced herself, and stepped into the path of the starlight.

Her blood curled in radiant pain and heat through her body immediately. Narcissa sank to her knees, her arms clenched around her stomach, convinced she would vomit blood any second. But the discipline held, and she reached back along the connections that tied her to Lucius and Draco, to Sirius, even to her imprisoned sister and her discarded one, bracing herself, drawing on their love or their memories of love and kinship.

The pain gripped her stomach once more. Then it dissipated, and Narcissa stood slowly, wiping the back of her mouth where a small red trickle had leaked.

She smiled coldly. Voldemort had no other blood relatives within the same generation, the one before, or the one after that could help him bear the curse. The whole of it would therefore fall on him.

And unable to eat or drink anything, he would slowly starve to death. Narcissa did not think it would be as quick as a death of starvation or thirst usually was, of course. Voldemort's unnatural body did not take as much sustenance or possibly the same kind as other human beings did.

But even if he fed on the venom of his snake, which Narcissa thought a strong possibility, it would be closed to him now, with the flesh of reptiles cursed to poison him.

Narcissa chuckled, and enjoyed the slight, distant vibration of agony and rage in her mind as the curse began to affect Voldemort.

* * *

"I have discovered a way to destroy the Horcrux without turning to Dark Arts."

Narcissa turned to face Idunna. The woman acted as if their altercation over Draco had never taken place, simply walking into her classroom to make the announcement. "What method is that?"

"To surround it with purity." Idunna took a seat without asking for permission, her eyes narrowed on Narcissa, probably looking for some sign of shadows in her face. "Purified water, fire born of Light magic, and earth blessed by the touch of a unicorn's hoof."

"You will not use the element of air?"

"It is too chancy. Three elements will form a triangle, which is a more stable and useful magical symbol than a square."

Narcissa thought of telling her that _she_ had been thinking in terms of a circle, not a square, but then shrugged off the thought. All that mattered was that Idunna had found something she thought might work. Narcissa pretended to an expression of polite interest, while silently plotting on how to claim the Horcrux back and destroy it with Fiendfyre if this didn't work. "Will you need me for anything?"

"I want you to purify the water."

"Why, when my magic is Dark and you suspect me of being influenced by the Horcrux?"

"To show that _Light_ witches and wizards can forgive." Idunna gave her a smile so condescending that Narcissa was a little surprised it didn't slide and drip off her face. "I forgive you for interfering with my attempts to secure safety for the students of Hogwarts. If you wish to keep your son safe at the expense of others, I suspect that I cannot fight you."

"I want my son _and_ the other students safe."

Idunna shrugged, making the chimes in her hair tinkle softly. "They cannot be if he has been dabbling in Dark magic. And your foster son, as well. Have you considered educating them at home? So that other students need not be exposed to them?"

Narcissa smiled as she remembered what the Cadmus's Gift potion would do once it had some time to work on Idunna. "I never considered such a thing. All children deserve the right to come to Hogwarts."

"Including Muggleborns?"

"One of my sons counts a Muggleborn among his dearest friends. Of course I believe they should have the right to an equal education."

Idunna blinked. "But such is not the typical position of Dark wizards and witches. I believe that Voldemort has also opposed the right of Muggleborns to live in our world."

"Yes, and I am not him."

"But you are influenced by a Horcrux." Idunna turned and studied her from another angle, as if the literal position of her head was all that was needed for Narcissa to make sense. "It would seem that you should have adopted some of his attitudes and perspectives."

"That is not one of them."

Idunna continued to stare at her in silence, apparently having no conception of manners. Narcissa wondered idly whether Light wizards and witches got lessons in self-righteousness instead. "You make very little sense," Idunna said, as if to herself.

"I hope that I make sense where _I_ am concerned," Narcissa said, and no more. "Will you show me the spells that you want me to use to purify the water, so that I can make sure I match the Light standard for the ritual? I would not want to make a hash of it by purifying the water in a Dark way."

Whatever lessons Light wizards and witches received in place of manners, sarcasm was not part of them. Idunna said absently, "Yes, I will show you the spells." She stood and rested her hands on the back of her chair. "I wonder if I was mistaken about the Horcrux's influence over you."

Narcissa widened her eyes. "I am sure that you would not be wrong about _such_ a thing."

"I wonder if perhaps the influence has emerged in your children, instead of in you directly."

"You have been to the Headmistress and asked her about the permission required from parents to cast certain spells on the children?"

"I have. And it does seem that the school has rules, which I suppose I should have known you would know, since your husband is on the Board of Governors. But if I see that such a rule is getting in the way of saving and serving other children, you already know what I will do."

"You might find yourself in trouble with the Headmistress if you do."

"I serve the higher good."

 _Which is probably just another term for the greater good that Minerva found in Dumbledore's notes,_ Narcissa thought. But she had already taken her revenge, and it would be interesting if there was a way to destroy Horcruxes that did not involve the risks of basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, or the ritual that she and Sirius had done to help Harry.

"Very well. Please show me the Light spells that you would like me to use."

Idunna conjured water into a glass that she just happened to be carrying in her pocket, and began showing Narcissa the spells that seemed to lift any impurities off the water like a skim or mist, and then burned them away. It was an interesting spell that Narcissa was glad to have learned, not least for the way that it taught her about the way Idunna thought. Of course she would believe that she could burn through the Darkness if she saw it happening with situations like this.

But that would do nothing to protect her from Narcissa.


	28. Narcissa Watchful, Part Eight

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Eight_

"You'll never guess what happened today," Harry said, flinging himself onto the chair that stood in the corner of Narcissa's office.

Narcissa glanced up at him with one eyebrow raised. "I suppose I will not, if you do not tell me about it."

Harry grinned and touched a knife under his arm for a moment. "Hannah Abbott challenged me to a wizard's duel. She made poor Susan her second before Susan could get out of it. I had to tell her twice that I wasn't going to fight her right outside the Great Hall before she believed it."

Narcissa shook her head. "And then did you slaughter her?"

"I made sure that we had a huge audience when I went up on a staircase that no one was using because most people were already headed towards the Great Hall for dinner by then. I held my hands away from my body and kept talking about how I didn't want to fight her, how she was forcing me to. Hannah was starting to look a little nervous. Anyway, she tried to use a Blasting Curse on me. I blocked it and shattered one of the bannisters, then Disarmed her and told her she could have her wand back when she stopped being stupid."

"And if she needs the wand for schoolwork?"

"I checked the Hogwarts rules. Headmistress McGonagall helped me. I think she felt a little sorry for me with everyone muttering about how I must have joined Voldemort in the raid on that village. And the rules say that someone who wins a wizard's duel and Disarms their opponent can keep the opponent's wand until the opponent fulfills the condition set for them."

Narcissa smiled at last. She should have more trust in Harry's ability to handle situations like this, she supposed. She had trained him hard for a reason. "And how is Miss Abbott going to stop being stupid?"

"An apology to me and a statement that she knows I didn't have anything to do with the attack would be fine." Harry lay back on the couch and tossed a wand Narcissa suspected was Abbott's into the air. "And I know that you put some kind of poison in Freyasdaughter's tea, but I wanted to set a contingency spell myself."

"Contingency spells are advanced magic."

"I _know_ that, Mother. I know all about the things that can go wrong if you use the wrong words. That's why I'm going to think really carefully about how to word it before I cast the spell."

After a moment, Narcissa nodded. She had to have more trust in Harry over something like this as well. "And what will the contingency say?"

"It'll activate instant death for Freyasdaughter if she ever casts a spell on Draco that causes him pain."

Narcissa folded her hands and watched Harry patiently. Harry watched her back, and then sighed and said, "All _right_ , what did I forget?"

"Besides my own revenge and the fact that Draco may well want to defend himself instead of having you standing up for him, as he has already proven? The fact that Freyasdaughter is the Defense professor and may cast curses at Draco during class that could hurt him."

"She doesn't _need_ to."

"She would not be a very good Defense professor if she never cast such. And Draco's shields and practice with you may not always be enough to hold them back. We want her dead for a _reason_ , dear. Not due to a poorly-worded contingency spell. There are other methods of gaining vengeance, as I have told you often."

Harry touched the knife that Narcissa knew hung under his arm again and pouted until Narcissa gave him another patient look. Then he wiped the unattractive expression off and muttered, "So I don't have a lot of choice but to wait until she hurts Draco?"

"There are many measures in place to guard Draco. Instead of thinking of this as depriving you of your revenge, you may wish to think on how you will encourage Draco's confidence in his own plans. Does he not deserve his own revenge?"

Harry thought about that, and finally nodded. He got up to kiss her before he left the office. "Sorry, Mother. Sometimes I feel this red _rage_ come down on me at the thought of anyone hurting him, and then I don't know what to do with myself."

"You can use that rage," Narcissa told him softly. "What you must do is channel it and look out for future threats to Draco, ones that he may not be able to handle himself, not one that is already handled and right in front of you."

"You make me sound oblivious when you put it that way."

"Sometimes you are, darling."

After a second, Harry gave her a reluctant smile, and then turned and walked through the door without more of a farewell. Narcissa rolled her eyes indulgently. _The pride of the young._

Well, so long as it never got him or Draco hurt, then Narcissa could afford to indulge it, sometimes. She was still smiling as she went back to marking essays.

* * *

"You have learned the spell, Professor Malfoy?"

"I have, Professor Freyasdaughter." Unsaid went the implication that Narcissa wouldn't have approached Idunna in the first place if she hadn't learned them.

Idunna turned back to the room they stood in. It had originally been a simple classroom near the one where Idunna taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, as far as Narcissa could make out, but now it was inscribed on the walls and ceiling with small circles and other geometric shapes that flared with blue and silver and gold as Idunna ran through them one by one.

Narcissa studied them. She wasn't familiar enough with Light magic to say what they were for certain, but she recognized their general protective and creative intent. And containment, as well. If something happened to both of them, Idunna was ensuring that the Horcrux's influence would not spread beyond this room.

Narcissa could approve of the general theory, although in practice she would only want to defend three people in the world. Perhaps four if one added Sirius, she supposed.

"Now," Idunna said, and faced the center of the room, where a pot of earth, the carafe of water that Narcissa was in charge of purifying, and a blazing brazier stood in a triangle. In the center of the triangle lay Ravenclaw's diadem.

Narcissa cast the spells that Idunna had taught her to purify the water, keeping her eyes on the fire. The earth itself had a faint hoofprint pressed into it, and had probably been purified by the touch of a unicorn, just as Idunna had told her. The fire, born of Light magic, swayed and lunged towards Narcissa at times. She did not entirely trust it to stay within the confines of the brazier.

But it had not broken free by the time Narcissa finished the purification spells, and Idunna took a step back and spread her hands. She began to chant in slow, sonorous Latin that Narcissa wanted to roll her eyes at. The endings of the words had been rounded off so that they made little grammatical sense.

 _Perhaps they are more conducive to Light magic, the less sense they make._

At first, nothing seemed to be happening. Then a blue glow lifted from the water, forming the image of a triangle floating above the carafe. It was answered by a blue flash from what seemed to be a third of the runes covering the walls and ceiling.

The earth responded next. Its color was the silver of a unicorn, and it formed a sphere instead of a triangle, as another third of the runes flashed silver. Narcissa gripped her wand. She wasn't familiar enough with the ritual to be sure that something was going wrong, but it seemed at least possible.

Idunna's fire came last, and it had turned as gold as a phoenix's tail. It didn't produce a shape of its own, but merely echoed the golden glow of the runes, and the golden charms in Idunna's hair. She was the one who moved up to stand between the earth and the fire, her hands clenched in on each other.

"Now, Professor Malfoy."

Worried though she was by the lack of a third balancing participant in the ritual, Narcissa took her place between the water and the earth. She had enough magic on herself to save her life if something went wrong.

"We ask for the purified water to help us," Idunna said, voice low and gradually soaring as she began to speak faster and faster. Narcissa winced a little as shrill sounds filled the air around them, the charms in Idunna's hair chiming. "We ask for the purified earth to help us. We ask for the pure fire to help us, and _save us from this evil_."

Idunna stared straight at the Horcrux. Magic rushed past Narcissa and shoved the diadem into the final gap between the fire and the water.

For a moment, the Horcrux began to emit black vapor, and Narcissa was sure that it would manage to stop what they were doing to it. But then the water rose from the carafe and splashed over it, and the earth followed.

The black vapor was smothered, and Narcissa heard a distant shriek, not dissimilar to the ones that Voldemort uttered when she battled him in her mind. She smiled.

"Now, the fire," Idunna said, and moved her hands in a complex gesture that didn't include her wand but did seem to include traces of a circle.

The fire shot out from its brazier, a level sheet of it that reminded Narcissa of how some dragons breathed. It surrounded the soaking bundle of dirt that was the Horcrux, and for a long moment, Narcissa thought it would hover there like an aura.

Then it moved in.

The Horcrux began to burn. The wail returned, stronger this time, and the diadem vibrated, shaking off most of the earth and water. The fire closed in further and further, and Narcissa thought she saw the sapphire in the diadem opening like an angry eye.

Then a brilliant burst of silver, gold, and blue light filled the room as all the runes were drained of their power at once. Narcissa found herself taking a step back, a protective hand rising before her eyes. Luckily, she didn't manage to move completely out of the triangle, and it didn't break.

Instead, the Horcrux screamed one more time, and then the sound abruptly cut off.

Narcissa lowered her hand and found herself staring at a large scorch patch on the floor. Idunna stood over and spoke in some more of that modified Latin, waving her wand. A black mist cleared off, shrinking some of the burn marks, and was gone.

"You backed away as if you doubted my power to keep you safe," Idunna said, lifting her head. There was a gold light lingering in the backs of her eyes, which told Narcissa how powerfully Light the magic was. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I could not help it," Narcissa said, poised as she lied. She was used to that, after all. "The pain of the Horcrux's influence being yanked out of me would not let me stand still."

Idunna smiled, and Narcissa reflected that she might have made an intelligent woman with a little less focus on the Light. "Then I am glad that you helped me in this ritual. I had my doubts about you, but being returned to your normal self…"

"It feels wonderful," Narcissa said, and smiled at her, while imagining what the Cadmus's Gift poison would begin to do to her soon.

* * *

 _Three Horcruxes gone,_ Narcissa thought that evening, as she watched her sons practicing defense spells both higher-level and Darker than any they would see in Idunna's class. _A good start, but we must think about retrieving some others soon._

Harry waited until he had Draco panting and on the defensive, then dropped him with a Stunner that Draco's Shield Charm didn't come down far enough to defend against. Harry shook his head as Draco dropped onto the Cushioning Charm already in place. "That will teach him not to protect his legs. Mother, what does this sign mean?"

Narcissa looked up from the third-year essay that appeared to have been copied from the Astronomy textbook, and raised her eyebrows at the sign floating in fire in the air in front of Harry. "That is the sign of the Deathly Hallows. Where did you run across it? Reading children's books again?"

Harry only grinned at her, knowing her teasing was gentle. It wasn't as though Harry had had a _chance_ to read wizarding children's books until he became part of the Malfoy family. "No, I saw it in photographs from Grindelwald's day. I've been reading History on my own, you know. I thought I'd look up why people thought Dumbledore was so great."

"That is the sign Grindelwald fought under as well, that is true. But it originally comes from the Tale of the Three Brothers."

Harry nodded, looking pleased with himself. "If great Dark wizards can believe in children's tales, then I don't feel bad for reading them." He went to revive Draco, unaware of the trail of fire he had sparked in Narcissa's mind.

 _The Elder Wand was supposedly a tool of ultimate power. If we can make Voldemort believe that we have that in our possession, or knowledge of where it is to be found, that might lure him close enough for me to read his mind for knowledge of the Horcruxes._ Narcissa had already tried probing through the blood connection they shared, but perhaps because it was a blood and not a Horcrux link, she had encountered little success in reading Voldemort's specific thoughts. They seemed to meet better on the battlefield of the mind, and Legilimency was still an art better practiced face-to-face.

 _He might believe the Elder Wand could cure him, or defeat his enemies. And there is the fact that he and Harry have brother wands. He would want something else with which to face him. Or me._

Narcissa nodded, decision made, and called a house-elf to fetch yet more books from the Manor. It was somewhat troubling that the Manor was better-stocked than the Hogwarts library, but considering how esoteric some of these subjects were, perhaps it should not bother her.

She could always offer to donate copies of the books she had used to Hogwarts, but somehow, she thought the Headmistress might object.

* * *

"Your plan is sound. But you should let me be the one to lure the Dark Lord with tales of the Elder Wand."

Narcissa looked calmly at Lucius through the flames, and said, "How can you? Would Voldemort not curse you as a traitor the moment you approached him?"

"He enslaved me for years and destroyed the clarity of my mind, the integrity of my soul. Let me have this moment of revenge, Narcissa."

"I would not deny it to you. I only want to know _how_ you could survive carrying the tales to him when his suspicions are so great now. Even if you believed that you are unwillingly attaining your freedom, he would want revenge on me for cursing him."

Lucius smiled grimly. "There are locations where the Death Eaters met during the first war that are not currently under the Dark Lord's control. Give me enough time to trap them with the proper defensive spells and protections, and I could arrange to meet him there and show him these supposed memories of the Elder Wand."

"In a Pensieve, Lucius. I don't want him inside your mind."

"You think that I am an idiot, Narcissa?"

Narcissa smiled. _Yes, he is much more fun this way._ "First we need to create a replica of the Elder Wand that would pass muster. Should we hire Olllivander, or do you think we can create something that would seem to be real in a memory?"

"The fewer people outside our family we involve, the better. And the Dark Lord will probably soon move to shutter the shops in Diagon Alley in any case. I can Transfigure a wand from wood, Narcissa. It will take me some time, but those skills are returning to me along with my clarity of thought."

"And then I will arrange to be at the meeting location. Harry will let me borrow his Invisibility Cloak. I think it safer than trying any more conventional means of concealing myself from Voldemort's notice."

Lucius nodded, his eyes full of clear fire. "There are several we could use, and I will have to consider them carefully to decide which one is best and which one will take the fewest defenses to utilize…"

Narcissa listened to her husband plot with her, silently rejoicing over many traits that would probably have offended him if she had mentioned them. He had put his family first, rather than trusting blindly in someone outside it. He had added his own nuance to the plans, instead of simply going along with what she mentioned.

His skin shone with a subtle return of health and magic, which had been banished for years while the Dark Mark grew stronger.

For the first time in those years, Narcissa was as confident that she had made the best possible choices when young as she was now.


	29. Narcissa Watchful, Part Nine

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Nine_

Narcissa stood in the shadows under Harry's Invisibility Cloak and her own Disillusionment Charm. They were in an abandoned house that had no name Lucius knew. Narcissa, noting the tiny carved ravens that loomed in every corner of the room and paraded around the tops of the door-lintels, though she might be able to guess the last name of the family it had once belonged to.

But then again, the family was long dead. The most important person in the room was the one that Narcissa _needed_ to bring death to.

"Lucius. You claim that your wife controlled you?" Voldemort's voice was an arrogant hiss. The snake draped around him flickered her tongue now and again, but did not seem to scent Narcissa. She hid a smile. Magically-enhanced beasts—to increase the snake's size, in this case—often lost some of their natural powers.

"Yes, my lord." Lucius could do a more graceful and deceitful impression of bowing in place than Narcissa had seen him manage in years. Eliminating the Dark Mark a little at a time was truly an improvement for him.

"And how do I know that this is the truth and not a _trick_?"

One of Voldemort's pale hands shot out as he spoke, squeezing down on Lucius's shoulder in a way that would leave a painful bruise. But Lucius did not gasp or cry out. He only tilted his head back and met Voldemort's gaze blandly, shaking his head a little. "You know because I have valuable information to give you, my lord, on the curse that my wife cast on you."

" _Tell me_ ," Voldemort said, so guttural that it was nearly Parseltongue. Lucius shuffled a little, so that his back was more directly to Narcissa, and that meant Voldemort was bent over him and his eyes were also facing her disguised form.

Narcissa slipped rapidly into his mind. She found shields almost everywhere, but she was looking, now, more for emotions, and for the distinctive signature of their blood link. She found it, and followed it quietly through weak places in the shields that had probably appeared since her starvation curse had begun to deprive Voldemort of the little sanity he had left.

She managed a glimpse of the snake draped around him, then an image of the snake wearing a golden locket. That was all she got before the shields came down again and Narcissa had to retreat before she became trapped in Voldemort's mind.

Narcissa retreated physically, too, and waited until Lucius was done in a thoughtful frame of mind. Voldemort had risked making another living Horcrux? But then, of course, he did not know that Harry had been one at all.

And he probably assumed that the snake was ultimately loyal to him and spent all her time around him in any case. He would see little risk that someone could succeed in turning or killing his pet.

Narcissa smiled. She already had a plan in mind to deprive Voldemort of his pet's company sooner rather than later.

* * *

At the High Table during the evening meal a fortnight later, Idunna dropped her fork.

Narcissa, who was seated beside her as usual, turned around with a solicitous frown that was too practiced to reveal how she really felt. "Are you well, Professor Freysdaughter? Did one of the students throw a prank at the table?" She glanced around as though searching for a nonexistent culprit.

"It's nothing," Idunna whispered. "A bit of stomach trouble. I think I shall—take my leave." And she rose and all but fled from the Great Hall, which made the students start whispering until the Headmistress glared them into silence.

Narcissa smiled and went on eating. She was anticipating Draco and Harry's visit to her quarters, but she ignored their questions until the door was safely sealed behind them and wards that would alert her to the existence of any eavesdroppers or their spells were up over the door and windows.

"What was that, Mother? Your revenge, but you never told us exactly what the poison would entail," Draco said, folding his arms as he scowled at her.

"We know the poison is called Cadmus's Gift," Harry added as he sat on a couch behind Draco, bouncing his leg and staring at her expectantly. "But that's all."

"From the name, you should be able to figure out what it does."

"I _did_ try to look it up in the library. It was too obscure. I couldn't find any references to it in the books."

"She probably thinks that we can figure it out from the mythological reference, Draco. But I have to admit, Mother, I've studied the myths about Cadmus, since I didn't know them very well, and I can't come up with an answer."

"Cadmus is famous for several things. But he received one particular gift, from Athena, once he had killed a dragon—"

"He sowed the dragon's teeth, and a race of armed warriors came up!" Draco said triumphantly, a moment before Harry tried to say the same thing. For a moment, they glared at each other.

"And now there are blades piercing her from the inside?" Harry asked, turning to face Narcissa.

Narcissa smiled at him. "You're emphasizing the wrong aspects of the gift, darling."

"Not blades," Draco said, eyes widening. " _Teeth_."

Narcissa toasted him with her vine-carved silver goblet of mulled wine. "Exactly, Draco. Idunna will feel the pain of the teeth flowering to life in her, and chewing their way through her stomach and liver. When she manages to expel the teeth that have grown in her, the remaining seeds will sprout. They are living all throughout her now, in the corners of her flesh and guts where no Healer would think to look. Unless a Healer thought to look _exactly_ during the attacks, in fact, they would never find any teeth. They might be tempted to dismiss her pain as simple incidences of food poisoning."

"And the attacks are brief," Harry murmured. "Ingenious, Mother."

"I do want to take revenge and _not_ go to Azkaban, of course, dear."

"Are they going to kill her?" Draco asked, rolling over so that he could stare at her. He looked as if he were pondering the idea of her as an indirect murderer.

Narcissa nodded at him. "Eventually, of course."

Draco looked a bit unnerved. "I would never have the courage to do something like that to someone."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, fiercely enough that Narcissa suspected that this was an argument they had had more than one rendition of. "You still managed to protect yourself against that bitch when it counted. And you can keep on defending yourself. I'm rubbish at politics, but you could be great if you worked on it more."

"You don't think I'm great at politics _now_?"

"Not with the problems that you told me you've been having in Slytherin!"

"What kinds of problems are these?"

Both her boys froze and glanced at her. Narcissa watched their faces. At last, she nodded, and both Draco and Harry relaxed with a whoosh of breath. Narcissa smiled.

"As long as you handle it as discreetly as you have," she said, and shrugged a little, "then I have no reason to worry about it."

That got her as smiles as bright as the guilty looks had been dark. Narcissa sipped her wine and listened as Draco then inveigled Harry into a political debate about who among the students was going to go over to Voldemort.

She had thought at one point that she would resent the point when Draco grew up. The same thought had occurred to her when she had adopted Harry. She felt in the bones that she was meant to defend them and smooth their paths in life. What would she do when they grew old enough not to need her?

But now they had reached that point, and it was more pleasant than she could have imagined.

* * *

Narcissa wrapped the cloak more firmly around her face—although a mask with an illusion anchored to it defended that as well—and ducked into Borgin and Burke's.

A small alarm ward clanged above her head. It sounded like a bell, but Narcissa knew the sounds of all the common alarms, and could tell the difference. This one would wake its caster out of a sound sleep, no matter how quiet it was.

A second later, Borgin came out of the back of the shop, bowing and wiping soft hands on an apron-like garment he wore over his robes. Narcissa glimpsed dark gobbets soaked in blood before Borgin's wand swished and took care of them. "What can I do for you, my dear madam?"

Narcissa hadn't made the spells deep enough to disguise her sex, so she was unalarmed by him knowing that much about her. "I am not sure that you can help me," she said, in a voice deliberately more cool and haughty than she would have used if she had come here openly. "I am looking for a _specific_ item, you see."

"There are many specific items here, of course!" Borgin swept his hand out and beamed at her in a way that he probably thought ingratiating. He obviously had no use for dental charms. "Please, look to your heart's content. Although of course you might also tell me what you're looking for…"

"A locket," Narcissa said, in the tones Lucius used when he had to explain an order to a house-elf more than once. "Made of gold, with a snake made of emeralds on the front. Or perhaps you would say an S made of emeralds. Some people do." She sniffed to convey what she thought of these people.

Borgin froze, his eyes widening. "You're talking about Salazar Slytherin's locket?"

"It belonged to him at one time," Narcissa said, offhand. "I am more interested in it due to its Peverell associations."

"I didn't think a Peverell ever owned that locket."

"The Peverells married Slytherin's descendants, the Gaunts," Narcissa said, and made her voice soft and slow. "Or do you not know even _that_ much pure-blood history?"

Borgin flushed. "My pure-blood history is perfectly fine!"

"Then perhaps I shall find the locket here," Narcissa said, and turned, apparently dismissing him. A mirror on the wall began to swirl with bloody colors as she looked into it. Narcissa sniffed, and the mirror stopped, apparently disconcerted.

"Actually—I think that my father's partner, Caractacus Burke, had the locket at one time. But he sold it, of course."

"Did he?" Narcissa turned back. "I suppose this kind of shop does not keep records of its customers, and would not know—"

"Of course we keep records!"

"Then you can tell me who bought the locket."

Burke clasped his hands behind his back as if to keep the blood from staining anything, although of course it already would have at the angle he'd held his hands at. His gaze skittered away from her. "I can't do that," he whispered. "My clients do have the expectation of confidentiality."

Narcissa laughed in genuine surprise. She hadn't thought that someone like Borgin would have any principles at all, but of course she should have known he needed _this_ one to operate a successful shop.

"I love being surprised," she said. "It happens so rarely."

"Madam?"

Narcissa stepped towards him and held out her wand. "You don't need to move," she told Borgin, who tried anyway and found his feet rooted to the floor. "I'll just take what I need and then leave you to your own pursuits."

She dived into his mind and found a memory easily, pulled to the forefront of his thoughts by the conversation. Borgin had leafed through the ledgers as a child, fascinated by the records of the treasures that had marched through the shop's doors. He had hit the page where Slytherin's locket was recorded, furious that it had been sold for what he thought a low price.

And it had gone to a woman named Hepzibah Smith.

Narcissa withdrew from Borgin's mind, thoughtful. Of course the last name was common even among Muggles, but many Smiths were supposedly descendants of Hufflepuff. And Hepzibah was rare in either world.

"Wh—what did you do to me?"

"Read your mind. And then changed it," Narcissa added, and _Obliviated_ him. She turned and left the shop, pondering as she did if she should try to find Hepzibah Smith directly, or do some indirect research before approaching her or her heirs. Perhaps the latter. Harry and Draco might like to help her on it.

* * *

Narcissa glanced up from her marking as the Floo turned green. Lucius stepped through it. He looked as though he was wrestling with some internal decision. Narcissa sat quietly back and waited.

Lucius exhaled, inhaled, exhaled again, and went on until Narcissa wondered if she was being asked to witness his meditation practice instead of his decision. Then he said, "I want things to be the way they were between us."

Narcissa laid aside her quill. She already knew the third-year Ravenclaw in front of her was going to get a Troll for repeating the same sentence five times. "The way they were before the Dark Mark began to cloud your mind, you mean?"

"Yes." Lucius took a step towards her. Then he looked as if he might take one backwards when Narcissa stood up from behind the desk. Narcissa waited, calmly, for where his will would lead him.

Then Lucius hissed between his teeth, as if exasperated with himself, and came close enough that he could clasp her shoulders and kiss her.

Narcissa sighed and lifted a hand to caress his cheek. Then she led him out of the sitting room where she marked essays and Harry and Draco trained to the bedroom of her quarters.

Lucius stared at her nervously as she undressed, but Narcissa knew him well, knew the moment when his breathing quickened, and his eyes got stuck on the creamy skin of her breasts as they emerged from the robe. Narcissa shook out her hair and then paused and looked a dazed Lucius in the eye.

"Well? Why are you still dressed?"

Luckily, _that_ problem was solved quickly. And they did indeed resume the way things had been.

* * *

Narcissa catapulted out of sleep. Her mind was filled with grim triumph, and when she opened her eyes, the blood link she had with Voldemort meant that she saw images of blood streaking the walls and running in black streams along the floor and through the grooves in the stone.

Narcissa gripped her wand. If he was that happy with himself, then—

 _You thought you could stop me!_

The words howled through Narcissa's head. She began to strengthen her Occlumency shields without replying. She was sure that she would find out, in a few hours at most, what Voldemort had done. There was nothing to be gained by arguing with a madman.

She heard one more howl before the shields strengthened. Next to her, Lucius was stirring and murmuring something, his hand groping for her.

"Voldemort," Narcissa told him, which made him sit up. Narcissa gathered up the fur-lined cloak that she had worn on a few assassinations when looking flashy would let her pass unnoticed. It was long and thick enough to keep her warm no matter what the weather, and it would conceal the decided lack of clothing she wore underneath it.

"What 'bout him?"

"Something happened. He yelled it into my head. I fear this may be another attempt to frame Harry." Narcissa pulled the robe closed in front and used a mirror and her wand to comb her hair into some semblance of acceptability. "I want you to stay here. He might try to strike at you while I'm busy dealing with this."

Lucius sighed and pulled the blankets up to his chest. "Stay safe," he whispered.

Narcissa gave him a tender smile and leaned over to kiss him. "You as well," she said, and raised some of the strongest wards she knew behind her as she left. She hadn't made all this progress in freeing her husband and getting him back to normal only to lose him to a madman with no sense of taste.

But when she emerged from her quarters, Minerva was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She held her lit wand in hand as if she didn't feel safe without it, and her face was grim and wan in its radiance.

"Minerva?"

"I'm sorry, Narcissa. You're too late."

" _Do_ explain what you mean by that."

"This time, Voldemort put that green lightning bolt above the corpse of Amelia Bones. She was the most popular candidate for Minister. The public is screaming. The Aurors have already arrested Harry."


	30. Narcissa Watchful, Part Ten

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Part Ten_

Narcissa strode into the Ministry, moving with a calm pace, and looking neither right nor left. She still wasn't surprised when Aurors fell into place on either side of her. They didn't look at her, either. They simply escorted her to the lifts, and then rode in one of them with her up to the Acting Minister's office.

It turned out that the only inhabitant of it at the moment was Rufus Scrimgeour. He sighed when he saw her, and braced himself as if he assumed that he was going to receive some sort of kick in the groin. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Why are you here? Are you Acting Minister?"

Scrimgeour shook his head. "I was nursing some ambitions in that direction, but…with our best bet for that position dead, it seems foolish to do."

"I want to know who ordered the arrest of my son."

Scrimgeour blinked. "I was unaware that Draco Malfoy had been arrested."

His confusion seemed genuine enough that Narcissa held herself back from snapping, but the restraint was a bare thread. "Harry Potter is my foster son. He was arrested a few hours ago on the word of a _fool_ who assumed that a distraction in the sky next to the Dark Mark means that he murdered Amelia Bones."

Scrimgeour shook his head again, more slowly. "I'm aware that some Aurors did that, but I didn't give the order. As far as I know, that came from Auror Williams's office."

"The name is not familiar to me."

"An, ah, supporter of Minister Fudge," said Scrimgeour. "His apparent pick for his next Undersecretary, but then Fudge lost power. Williams remained, however. And it seems that he has some kind of grudge against Mr. Potter. As well as against your husband." Scrimgeour was watching her closely. "He's rather a fanatic against Death Eaters, in fact."

"Or former ones? Or Imperiused ones? I'll thank you to remember that my husband was acquitted of anything more egregious than a few foolish decisions during the last war, Auror Scrimgeour."

That got her a look of polite disbelief, but Scrimgeour nodded. "Of course. But it doesn't matter. If they had a Dark Mark on their arm or they still do or they're associated with someone who did or does, then Auror Williams wants them gone. I think that it's a foolish move, but on the other hand, there will be people baying for the boy's blood soon enough. This might actually be the best protection for him, in Ministry custody."

Narcissa held back her immediate response, as it seemed she had been doing since Minerva first told her Harry had been arrested. She gave a slow nod. "But I want it understood that he is not guilty."

"Auror Williams isn't going to believe that."

"Then too bad for Auror Williams."

Perhaps she had shown some aspect of the true self that her discipline normally guarded so fiercely, because Scrimgeour took a slow step around the desk. "Mrs. Malfoy? If you would like help, then I can give you help."

"How? You said yourself that you're not going to be Acting Minister."

"Not Acting Minister in the sense of taking over the job someday, but someone needs to bring order to the chaos right now. And keep murder from happening." Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes a little. "Even if sometimes, the murder is justified. Auror Williams is a fool."

"You are welcome to accompany me, Rufus. And to call me Narcissa." Now that the first burning around the edges of her vision had receded, Narcissa could see the benefits of such an alliance. "Perhaps someone from the Ministry will listen better to someone from the Ministry."

"Er, yes."

Rufus still eyed her warily as they walked towards the lifts again. Narcissa showed him a faint corner of a smile. "What, Rufus? You don't think that a mother would be fierce in defense of her child?"

She could see him relaxing, convincing himself that that was all he had seen, not a glimpse of a dark power that could have destroyed him and kept moving without looking back. If that was what he needed to think, Narcissa did not begrudge it to him. She had been foolish, in fact, showing so much of herself and expecting it to pass unnoticed.

She need not warn her prey or potential allies who might also become potential enemies if they saw how strong her impulse to vengeance was. She would wait, and then she would strike, and that would be the end of it.

* * *

"You cannot see Mr. Potter."

"He is a minor child, and I am his mother." For the first time Narcissa had a reason to be grateful that Harry's seventeenth birthday would not be until July. She wound her hands together and looked full into Williams's face. Henry Williams, that was his name, a first one so similar to Harry's and yet nothing like him at all. "You would deny me access to him? He probably does not even understand what he has been arrested for. I merely wish to speak to him, comfort him, and reassure him that things will be all right."

"He committed murder, madam. How is _that_ all right?"

"What is the evidence that he committed murder?" Rufus asked, his voice slightly bored. He had a tight grip on his wand, but Narcissa only knew that because of how close she was pressed to his arm. "I thought a trial was necessary first no matter what happened. And where is the law that says a minor child must be confined alone, no matter how dangerous he is?"

"He is a child of _Death Eaters._ "

"I didn't know Lily and James Potter were Death Eaters, either. What a day of surprises this is turning out to be."

"You know very well what I mean, Rufus!" The man leaned forwards, trembling, his hands locked on the edges of his desk. He saw Narcissa looking at them and snatched them back, but Narcissa _had_ seen. Auror Williams was old enough to be Harry's father and to have a few lines of white in his black hair, but he was still frightened. "Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy claim that he's their adopted son? Fine. Then he's the child of _Death Eaters_!"

Narcissa sighed and reached for her left sleeve. That got Williams's wand trained on her in seconds. Narcissa pretended that she hadn't seen it—that really was the best tactic for all concerned—and continued rolling up her sleeve. "There," she said, as she exhibited her unmarked left arm. "Now that you know I'm not a Death Eater, may I visit my child?"

" _Finite Incantatem_!"

All of them paused. The Dark Mark failed to blossom into existence on Narcissa's flesh. She nodded to Williams and stepped past him. In the end, it wasn't that hard. He wasn't willing to lay a hand on her, and she wasn't afraid of him or the force of the law that he might bring to bear.

 _He seems entirely unnerved by the Dark Mark not being there,_ Narcissa thought, and while in some ways it was a shame that his fear was making him a weaker opponent, most of her rejoiced in it.

Behind Auror Williams, a short corridor led to a row of cell doors. Narcissa instinctively went to the one that had the thickest bars and the smallest window in the panel of iron. She asked, "Harry?"

"Mother?"

"Child of Death Eaters!" announced Williams behind her. Apparently, he'd had enough time to recover from his fear.

Narcissa only shook her head a little and asked, "Harry, are you well? Do you need food, or water, or a chance to come out to talk to me?"

Williams started some other tirade behind her. Narcissa was skilled at not listening when she did not wish to, and she concentrated solely on Harry. He seemed to consider it for a second, and then he said, "No, Mother. Nothing. I only want to make sure that you're all right, and that you can tell people the truth."

To Narcissa, the message was clear. _Don't break me out. Take a while. Make them hurt._

"If you think that the Ministry is going to stand by as your Death Eater foster mother _lies_ for you—"

"Shut up, you fool," Rufus told Williams. His voice was deeper than Narcissa had known it could go. "You've already seen that she doesn't have the Dark Mark. If you won't shut up for our good, do it for your own. You know that Malfoys don't forget a debt."

Narcissa wanted to smile, but she kept the impulse under control. _They learned that from the Blacks,_ she thought calmly, and she faced the cell door again. "If they don't feed you or give you water, Harry, then tell me. You can concentrate hard enough on your distress that I'll feel it." And that was true, thanks to a few spells she had placed on Harry years ago, spells unbreakable by anything except one of them dying.

"Thank you, Mother."

"Of _course_ we are going to feed him and give him water! We aren't You-Know-Who's forces."

"Do forgive me, Auror Williams," Narcissa said, and kept her voice as cold as possible while she stepped away from the cell door. "From the way that you were ranting about how inhuman you find Voldemort's forces, and acting as though you believe a sixteen-year-old committed murder with no proof, I wasn't sure about your sanity."

" _Mrs. Malfoy._ "

Narcissa took no note of his stiff face and tone. "I trust that you are going to take good care of my son," she told Rufus. "If I hear differently, then I think you know who I will be visiting first."

Rufus only nodded. Auror Williams pointed a finger at her and demanded, "Threatening the Head of the Auror Department? If you had any _idea_ —"

"I think I have a very good idea," Narcissa said, and left the prison corridor without waiting for the Aurors to catch up. Her mind was skipping ahead, considering what would be the most urgent thing to do other than reassuring Draco and Lucius that Harry was well. She could confront other students or Ministry flunkies, of course, but she was reluctant to do so unless they began their own rumors. She had more pressing concerns.

Such as how to remove Harry from the cells in such a way that no one would doubt what had happened, and she would show her displeasure, and she would ensure that no one—such as Henry Williams—would be able to hurt Harry before that happened.

Narcissa smiled. Well, she had always enjoyed a challenge.

* * *

"But doesn't he have to have done _something_ , if the Ministry is going to arrest him?"

Narcissa halted behind one of the walls that formed the corner. She recognized the voice that was speaking: Miss Abbott's, the same student Narcissa had given detention to and who had challenged Harry to a wizard's duel. And Narcissa had her suspicions about who Miss Abbott was talking to, but she wanted to wait and hear what would happen next, without her interference.

"Because the Ministry is always right?" Draco made a disgusted sound. " _Think_ about it, Abbott. Last year, the Minister was denying that You-Know-Who is back. Even though he knew a bunch of students here had seen him. Does that make it sound as if the Ministry always knows what it's doing?"

"But Minister Fudge is gone now. I thought that meant—things would get better."

Narcissa turned so that she could see around the corner without revealing any sign of her own presence, including her shadow. Abbott stood there with her head bowed, shivering a little as if she imagined that would clear up the confusion in her head. Draco faced her, his face polished and shining and neutral.

 _I am so proud of you,_ Narcissa thought. Draco was far more distraught at Harry's absence than Lucius was, but her husband did not have so good a mask.

"Maybe things will get better if people work for change," Draco finally allowed. Abbott looked up at him, and Narcissa smiled. Her blood son was a much better leader than Harry, or would be when he grew into trust of his own abilities. Harry was impatient of politics, and it showed. Few people would trust him when he was that openly impatient. "But they won't if we sit back and whine and cry and trust the Ministry to be infallible."

"So you don't think Potter did it."

"Of course not. This is such a _transparent_ tactic for You-Know-Who to use." Even Draco's use of Voldemort's sobriquet was calculated, Narcissa thought. He said "Voldemort" aloud in the privacy of her quarters, but he knew that if he said it now, Abbott would focus too much on the name and not on what he was saying. "Harry wouldn't leave a lightning bolt floating above a corpse, and he wouldn't have killed someone who could actually be his political ally and make the Ministry better."

 _True. He would have killed them in a much more subtle way, and then not an ally who had done nothing to deserve it._

There was a long, shuddering breath, and then Abbott muttered, "You sound convincing, Malfoy. Really convincing. I'll—I'll think about it. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me."

"Any time, Miss Abbott."

Even that sounded lofty. Narcissa was smiling as she slammed herself under a hasty Disillusionment Charm. Abbott turned the corner and walked past her without noticing, her head bowed and a faint frown playing around the corners of her mouth. Narcissa waited a few beats to give Abbott time to disappear and her son to recover, then stepped out to face him.

Draco's gaze was locked on her at once, or rather on the faint shimmer of movement and changing color that the Disillusionment Charm let him see. He didn't relax until Narcissa took the spell off, but then he sighed and shook his head. "What do you think, Mother? Did I do it as well as I could have?"

He was restraining himself from asking after Harry. Again Narcissa couldn't help but smile, and she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "You did it perfectly. We need more people to be in support of Harry as the Ministry tries to blame him for this. And Miss Abbott is a close friend of Susan Bones. She may be able to get past the defensiveness and grief that I'm sure the girl feels now that her aunt is dead."

Draco blinked. "I didn't think of that. Poor Susan." He went on before Narcissa could startle at the compassion. "And—how is he?"

"They have him in a cell," Narcissa said. "An ordinary cell in the Ministry, nowhere near Dementors." She waited for Draco's relieved sigh to pass over, and then added, "They didn't appear to be starving him or keeping him from drinking, either. He seemed calm, and he asked me to leave him there. I think that we need to wait and remember that right now, justice is the most important thing, and vengeance can be delayed if we need it to be."

Draco nodded slowly. His eyes were shimmering with a fire that Narcissa had seen more often in Harry's eyes than in his. "If we have to wait, then we wait." He paused and stepped out from under her hand. "But, Mother? I'm looking forward to the day when we don't have to wait anymore."

Narcissa smiled. "I think everyone in our family could say the same, Draco."

* * *

"I—I am not sure what use I can be of to you, now that I am suffering from this—illness."

Narcissa gave Idunna a faint smile. "I wanted you to analyze the Dark magic the Ministry claims they found in the lightning bolt floating over Madam Bones's body. That ought to tell us whether it was the same magic that created the Horcrux or not. And if it is—"

"Then that would prove that your son was influenced by the Horcrux!"

Narcissa stared at Idunna, who finally seemed to notice Narcissa's gaze was wintry instead of celebratory. She straightened up, frowning. "What other conclusion would it be possible to draw?"

"That my son had not cast the lightning bolt? It is a simple ploy to make it seem as if Voldemort has my son as an ally, when in reality he is trying to frame him." Narcissa had sometimes wondered during the first war why Voldemort was able to gain such ground when his tactics were so violent and bloody, but now she understood. It was not so much that Voldemort was a tactical genius as that the wizarding public was bloody _stupid._

"We cannot discount the possibility that they may be working together. I know that you are reluctant to think so, Professor Malfoy, but that may be the truth, and you need to face it."

"I will ask that you research the matter and find the truth," Narcissa said coldly, and waited through a few more inane comments until Idunna left. Then she sat back in her chair, shaking her head.

No matter the fact that Narcissa had hoped to use Idunna to hunt a few more Horcruxes, she was nearing the end of her usefulness.


	31. Narcissa Watchful, Part Eleven

Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last chapter of _Narcissa Watchful_ , but the story will continue on (and conclude) with _Narcissa Triumphant._

 _Part Eleven_

"But what are you going to _do_ to the Ministry, Narcissa? Particularly if Harry wants you to leave him where he is for now?" Lucius's voice was bewildered, and his hands slid gently across her skin as if he thought he could soothe her back into sleep.

Narcissa propped herself up and smiled at him as his eyes followed the cascade of her blonde hair down her shoulder. "I found out why Auror Williams hates Death Eaters so much."

"One of them killed his family?"

"No. That is what the _official_ record says, but I found some names in that official record that I knew. And I went to them, and they talked." Narcissa pulled a bronze knife from her wrist sheath and hurled it so that it stuck in the wall, quivering. "It was very effective, what I did to them."

Lucius flinched from her. Narcissa looked back at him, blinking. "What is it, my love?"

"You—had that knife in bed with us all the time? And I never noticed?"

"Well, the wrist-sheath is charmed to be unnoticeable," Narcissa said demurely, but she smiled at him. She could feel his _real_ reaction underneath the blankets. "No, I managed to find out that Williams's sister was a Death Eater. She was the one who killed their parents, not some random stranger."

"And—no one noticed the Dark Mark on her arm when she was sentenced to Azkaban?" Lucius's voice was distracted as he reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. Narcissa stretched and shut her eyes. In a moment, she would let them have what they both wanted.

"She wasn't sentenced," Narcissa murmured, her eyes closed. "They found her dead next to her parents, and then her _dear_ brother put in a great deal of work and money and favor-trading to have the Dark Mark hushed up. She was listed as another victim of the Williams Massacre. No one I encountered knew for sure, due to a lack of witnesses, but it's highly likely her brother killed her."

"And then acted as if it was all Death Eaters." Lucius tugged on her hair. "I could almost admire the man. Er—do you have any other knives?"

"You never know, my love. Do _you_?"

Lucius gave a faint growling moan under his breath and pounced on her. Narcissa let him roll her over, and kissed him.

Then they began to do other things that need not relate to the Ministry or her planned vengeance, and Narcissa entertained Lucius with the many unexpected surprises that she _did_ have on her person.

* * *

"We are here to begin the trial of Harry James Potter for the murder of Madam Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and candidate for Minister of Magic."

Auror Williams made his voice as sonorous as he could, but Narcissa was still unimpressed, especially since she had spent time with true masters of that kind of speech. They were in the largest courtroom the Wizengamot ever met in, with purple drapes hanging on the walls and a golden sunburst glowing on the ceiling, which itself was made of frosted glass. There were lots of chairs for witnesses, which were like the polished oaken pews that Narcissa had once seen in a Muggle church where she had killed a target, and galleries of white marble for the Wizengamot members.

Auror Williams stood in front of the galleries with Harry in the prisoner's chair next to him. Since Harry was still underage, there were no chains on his arms. That made Narcissa happy. It was one less insult that she would have to punish. It also looked as though Harry had been fed regularly during the days that he had spent in confinement.

That might be the only thing that would keep the Ministry standing, at the end of the day.

"And what does the defendant have to say for himself?" asked Griselda Marchbanks, one of the elder members of the Wizengamot. She leaned forwards as if the thick lenses she wore would let her see the expression on Harry's face in finer detail.

Harry looked up. He had the calm, blank expression on his face that Narcissa had had to drill with him to achieve. It came much easier to Draco. "Not guilty."

"He _is_ ," Auror Williams promptly insisted. "There will be evidence shown that—"

"You forget yourself, Henry," said Rufus Scrimgeour from the side of the room. He had the same sour expression on his face that he had worn in all the newspaper photographs Narcissa had seen of him in the last few weeks, but his gaze was keen and cutting. He had nodded to acknowledge her, Lucius, and Draco when they first came in, with Minerva following close behind them. "You spoke. Now it is the Wizengamot's turn to speak."

Auror Williams fell back, flushing. Narcissa smiled at Rufus, and he nodded to her again without changing his expression.

"Yes, indeed." Madam Marchbanks shifted her weight in her chair. "Tell us what evidence there is that Harry James Potter committed this murder."

Auror Williams's presentation of "evidence" was all about the lightning bolt found floating above Bones's body, of course. He brought in witnesses who had seen it. One averred that it was "just the color of Potter's eyes," which got him questioned and sharply dismissed by the Wizengamot when it became clear that he'd never seen Harry's eyes at close range.

Narcissa kept her smirk to herself.

"And the evidence for the defense?" Madam Marchbanks finally asked.

Minerva stood, but Williams jumped in before she could say anything. "There can be none! The boy is a murderer, attempting to shield himself with the help of _Death Eaters_!"

"Come say that to my face, Henry Williams!" Minerva folded her arms and glared at the boy. "I faced you down when you tried to whinge at me about deserving a higher mark than Acceptable in Transfiguration, and I can do it now!"

A heavy chuckle moved around the courtroom, and Narcissa smiled at Minerva. She knew there were other reasons that Minerva had chosen to come, but just at the moment, she couldn't think of anyone else who could have contributed so heavily to Harry's defense.

 _Well. To his_ legal _defense._

Minerva turned to face the Wizengamot and managed to dip her head without ever conveying that she was going to degrade herself by something like a bow. "I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts. If you know anything about the responsibility the office entails, you know that I have to be aware if a student actually leaves the walls at night."

"I do know that," said Madam Marchbanks. "But how does it alert you? Surely it can't enable you to catch absolutely every student?"

"Not always catch them. But I know where they've gone, and how they've left—by Floo, or through a passage in the walls, or the front doors. It's damn annoying when people decide they want to snog on the grounds instead of in the castle," Minerva declared, and the Wizengamot chuckled again. "The point is, the castle doesn't tell me names. But it wakes me instantly, and it tells me the House and the year and sex of the person who left. _That_ much it can do, thanks to the Houses being in such different places in the school and each year and sex sleeping in a different room."

"And so?" Williams prodded, although from the way he'd tensed, he'd seen where Minerva was heading with this. Narcissa would have been a little disappointed if he hadn't. She wanted _some_ intelligence in an opponent.

"There were no Gryffindor fifth-year boys out of the school the night Madam Bones was killed," Minerva said simply. "Nor even in the corridors. The portraits would have alerted me of that. Mr. Potter could not have left the school after dark that night."

Madam Marchbanks nodded slowly. "That is valuable evidence, Headmistress. Thank you."

"No, it isn't!" Williams snapped at once. "All he had to do was leave the castle _before_ it got dark and then hide somewhere and wait for his chance! Or even Apparate to where he knew the Death Eaters were meeting!"

"As it happens," said Minerva, her face and voice so chill that Narcissa promised herself to revise the memory later so that she could see what those expressions looked like on someone else's face, "Mr. Potter was at dinner that night. Which takes place _after dark_ , this time of the year. He would have been missed. He is _quite_ the famous and noticeable inhabitant of the Gryffindor table at this point."

Narcissa darted a glance over at Harry. He gave her one that was full of quiet amusement, and went back to watching as Williams almost hopped with indignation.

"You don't know that that wasn't someone Polyjuiced as him or _glamoured_ as him, even! Headmistress, you _can't_ know!"

"There is, in fact," Narcissa interrupted softly, "an easy method of setting Auror Williams's mind at ease. I would permit the use of Veritaserum, if my son agrees, and if the questions are carefully restricted to that specific night and _nothing else_." She stared straight at Williams as she spoke.

Williams turned red in the face as he looked at her. "You know that questions like that are not usual procedure, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Why not? They should be." Lucius achieved the tone of boredom that Narcissa never could have, not at the moment. "Many trials would be much shorter if they were." He examined his fingernails, which Narcissa thought were growing better since she had destroyed so much of the Dark Mark. "I give my permission, too, as Harry Potter's foster father," he added, apparently not thinking anyone would need it when Narcissa had spoken.

Narcissa squeezed his knee as a reward, out of sight.

"Does Mr. Potter consent to the use of Veritaserum?" asked Rufus, and he looked straight at Harry. "He will have to."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and his face was downcast and modest. They really had trained hard on that part of the discipline, to make Harry a better liar than he'd been. "If it would help, there's nothing I wouldn't do." He flashed the courtroom a nervous smile, and then spent most of the time looking down again.

Despite Williams making enraged noises, the Veritaserum was fetched. Narcissa, meanwhile, closed her eyes and began to gather up the magic that she had worn into the courtroom in the form of jewelry, unnoticeable to the wards that hovered everywhere to detect dangerous weapons. The pendant around her neck heated. The rings on her fingers chimed softly. Minerva gave her a sidelong look.

 _She would have noticed, along with my family, that I never wear this much ordinarily, but what reason did she have to alert the Ministry?_ Narcissa breathed in and out, and still the magic rose and rose in her blood. Normally, she would never have done this. It would leave her exhausted afterwards, and a good assassin was never exhausted, not when she might have to move quickly any minute.

For now, she would need to leave the duty of protecting her when this was done to her husband and sons.

Terrifying, but it _must_ be done.

She heard the arguments Williams was trying to make, and the bustle back and forth as someone fetched Veritaserum after all. Then she opened her eyes and watched the fussy Ministry Potions brewer on his way to the defendant's chair.

She pushed her magic out as hard as she could, and it gripped the rug beneath the Ministry brewer's feet and tripped him. At the same time, it ensured Williams's mouth was open, and the arc of the potion was perfect. So many coincidences, all at once, and no one must know there was anything magical about them.

Narcissa slumped over in her seat and whispered, "Why did—why did Auror Williams want to persecute my son like this?"

She spoke as though she had no idea what would happen, and managed a convincing start when Williams replied in a dull, dazed voice, "Because he was raised by Death Eaters. Death Eaters are evil."

"Yes, I can understand, since they killed your family," Narcissa said, and blinked a little. "But don't you know that Harry doesn't have the Dark Mark on his arm? Have you ever known a Death Eater who didn't have it?'

"I knew. I have known a Death Eater who I didn't know had it."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Malfoy!" Madam Marchbanks said sharply, but not sharply enough to cover up the answer that stumbled out of Williams's mouth.

"My sister."

The gasp that swept the room quieted all the attempts that Madam Marchbanks and a few other people were making to stop Narcissa from asking questions. Even the ones who had wanted to "protect" Auror Williams from being made to answer unfair questions were staring wide-eyed and avid at him now.

"Your sister was a Death Eater?" Narcissa pressed a trembling hand to her breast. It wasn't hard to feign shock, not when she was shaking with exhaustion from the magic necessary to manipulate the situation to her best advantage.

"Yes." Williams started sightlessly past her. Of course, with that much Veritaserum in him, he would respond only to direct questions.

At that point, Rufus thumped his cane on the floor and shouted, "We need to stop asking questions! Auror Williams never consented to answer them." He gave Narcissa a narrow glance, and she immediately bowed her head in a way that she knew would hide her eyes.

"Of course. Forgive me, Head Auror. I grew overexcited."

Madam Marchbanks and the others who were interested in normal procedure went back to establishing order and calling for the antidote to Veritaserum for Williams, but Narcissa knew the damage had been done. There were plenty of them now who would consider his desire to prosecute Harry less than pure.

And, for that matter, his hatred of Death Eaters was, as well.

It honestly didn't take long after that. Williams was darting his eyes everywhere after he recovered, and he had no more questions or interruptions to offer while Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco finished presenting the rest of their evidence. Draco had been with him most of that evening and had seen no sign of Harry being magically exhausted or sneaking out of school. Narcissa reminded the Wizengamot, again, of the passionate hatred Voldemort held for Harry and vice versa, and detailed some of the times she had observed it. Lucius gave "old" observations of Voldemort, and said he was not the sort to join with an enemy who had once humiliated him.

At last Madam Marchbanks and the rest of the Wizengamot withdrew behind glass-colored spells to debate. Harry gave her a tired look. Narcissa smiled gently back. This was only the first phase of the revenge, humiliating the man who had insisted that Harry receive a full trial for an offense when he was underage. The Ministry had much more humiliation coming.

The glass-colored spells fell after remarkably little time, and Madam Marchbanks cleared her throat. "Mr. Potter, it would be easier if you had still testified under Veritaserum."

Harry just looked at her and said nothing. Neither did Narcissa. Apparently the Aurors she had made spill the potion into Williams's mouth had been carrying the whole of the Ministry's supply. There was no time to get more without delaying the trial unconsciably. (And if the Wizengamot had felt that it was permissible to delay it for a _month_ while they brewed more, then Narcissa would have called on her allies with their ranks to ensure they saw it the same way she did).

"But we have come to the conclusion," Madam Marchbanks finished, "that you are not guilty, and will therefore be released from Ministry custody and may go on attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

She still sounded unhappy, probably about the irregularities during the trial, but Narcissa couldn't care less. She was the one who had wanted to hold this trial and who hadn't done enough to stop Williams from interrupting. It should never have got to this point in the first place, that Harry had had to offer to testify under _Veritaserum_.

She was part of the Ministry, and they would all pay.

Finally, the Aurors gathered around Harry stepped back, and their wands pointed at the floor instead. Harry stood up and turned around, and Narcissa grabbed him and bowed her head. The exhaustion was fading. The strength of righteous anger was burning it out of her veins as if she had been doused with a potion.

"You are all right."

"I'm fine." Harry's hands tightened on her arms as Draco came up to hug him from behind, and Minerva hovered nearby as if to approve their return to the school. "But I am going to teach them a lesson for this, Mother."

His vow was soft enough that not even Draco could hear it. Narcissa stroked his cheek. "I never doubted it for a minute."

And she made her own vow as they stood there.

 _Everyone who touches my sons from now on will die._


	32. Narcissa Triumphant, Part One

**Title:** Narcissa Triumphant  
 **Disclaimer:** J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.  
 **Pairing:** Harry/Draco, Lucius/Narcissa  
 **Content Notes:** Angst, violence, minor character deaths, gore, torture, crack AU (Narcissa is an assassin)  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** Narcissa has a war on two fronts to fight, with Voldemort and with the Ministry. But when winning such wars is necessary to avenge her family and keep them safe, her enemies are the ones who will regret their actions.  
 **Author's Notes:** Welcome to the seventh and final fic in the Narcissa series, the AU of DH. This really won't make any sense at all if you haven't read the other fics in the series, so do that first.

 **Narcissa Triumphant**

 _Part One_

"I don't understand why we've waited this long to get back at the Ministry."

Narcissa finished signing her name to the parchment with a final flourish, folded up the letter, and turned to make her way to the Owlery. Draco stared at her for a moment, then fell into step beside her. "Didn't you hear me, Mother? I asked—"

"You did not ask, Draco. You whinged. And given that the answer should be perfectly obvious, I am less than inclined to give it to you."

Draco flushed, the pale hectic flush that always made him look as if he'd broken out in spots. Narcissa sighed a little. It was possible to teach one's children to resist the impulse to blush when they lied, but not to blush more gracefully. It was a fact she had often regretted.

"Fine." Draco swallowed the air he would have used to make a protest and spent the rest of the journey meditating on what he needed to think about. Narcissa smiled down at him, although he showed no sign of noticing. He was much quicker to learn than he had been as a young child.

They reached the Owlery, and Narcissa held out the letter. The first bird that swooped over to claim it was a great gray, and Narcissa examined him critically before she nodded. It was not essential that this letter pass discreetly through the air, after all.

The owl hooted softly and took off through the window. Draco cleared his throat, and Narcissa turned to look at him expectantly.

"You waited this long because you want to attack the Ministry with allies and have a say in the election of the new Minister, and you needed time to arrange it."

"Excellent, Draco." His chest still puffed out a little too far when she praised him, but then, she doled out the praise with a stingier hand now that he was nearly seventeen. "Yes. I intend to _destroy_ the Ministry when my blow lands, not merely faze them or shake them or smear their reputation as I smeared Auror Williams's."

Draco sneered automatically at the name of the biased Auror who had tried to insist that Harry had committed the murder of Amelia Bones. "But one thing I don't understand, Mother." He waited for her to nod before he spoke again. "How are you going to destroy something so powerful? And what about the chaos that would erupt when it falls? How in the world can we have a government if you destroy it?"

"Oh, certain structures will still stay in place," Narcissa told him, reaching out to stroke the head of Harry's snowy owl as she hopped along the perch towards Narcissa. Hedwig was fond of Narcissa for helping her master, and Narcissa was fond of Hedwig for being beautiful. It was an interesting mutual relationship. "The Wizengamot, the Aurors, some of the judicial process. But new _people_ will be occupying those spots."

"You're going to make Scrimgeour Minister, aren't you?"

Narcissa turned around sharply. Sirius had asked her that the other day, but he hadn't been serious; he liked to fling out the names of what he thought were silly candidates and make people laugh. No one had worked his way to the heart of the truth like Draco had.

Draco only shrugged. "I can read between the lines, Mother. You've exchanged a lot of letters with him and invited him over for dinner in a way that you haven't done for anyone else."

Narcissa relaxed. Now that she thought about it, why should Draco _not_ have guessed? Lucius had not because he knew, Harry was busier than ever with his training this summer, and Sirius did not live with them. "Very well, Draco. Yes. He's the only combination I've found of reliable, sensible, and accepting."

"Accepting?"

"Accepting of manipulation instead of bribes. Everyone else either wants much more money than I'm prepared to part with, or proudly declares that they'll stand on their own for the sake of principle and accept no Galleons at all."

Draco sneered again as he followed her down the steps from the Owlery. Narcissa made a note to give him some lessons in that, as well. Right now, the sneer distorted his face too much. "You do have your own standards of what is acceptable, Mother."

"I do. And they are the ones that matter."

Draco ducked his head. "I didn't mean to challenge…"

"You didn't." Narcissa sighed as she stepped back into the dining room where Sirius would be joining them for dinner that evening. "I have some reasons to be on edge, some problems that I have not yet solved. Do not worry about them, Draco. They do not concern you."

Draco studied her with raised eyebrows anyway. Then he asked, "Is it Voldemort, or is it some of your allies?"

Narcissa flickered a glance at him. Draco stood there and let it bounce off him. Narcissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Sometimes I think I raised you too well." Draco only grinned, so she said, "Allies. The curse I cast on him is killing Voldemort, or at least breaking his ability to hold onto this body. Once he becomes a wraith again, he will be much less dangerous, even if we have to spend some time killing him."

"But don't your allies fear you?"

"Yes, but it has been many years since I did them favors or reminded them of my powers, and some of them want to wait and see what happens. Others think they can take bribes from me _and_ the Ministry." Narcissa shook her head. She would not say that she had stupid allies, but she had some that were too addicted to playing the political field. They would insist on waiting and watching, just in case a better deal came along, even if that was monumentally unlikely.

And if the Ministry collapsed on their heads, then they would rush to her side, when it was too late.

"What are you going to do about them?"

"For now, the Horcruxes are my priority." Narcissa stretched. She had a potion to brew and consume before she could go after her next target. And she wanted to get at least one full night of sleep, unbroken by owls coming in with letters from Scrimgeour, Sirius, or her allies.

"Can I help?"

"If you want to start dicing some of the ingredients I've left on the table in the lab, then I would appreciate it. I'm going to take a nap."

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. Or, at least, speaking until Narcissa was more than halfway up the grand staircase. "Is Harry going to be coming with you when you hunt the next one?"

"No."

That seemed to be all Draco needed, because the next sound Narcissa heard was that of her lab door shutting. She gave a thin smile as she climbed the stairs. Yes, things would work out. She only needed to be faster, stronger, and cleverer than her enemies.

And that had never been a problem.

* * *

Narcissa stood in the middle of a circle that Lucius's ancestors had imprinted into the floor of this particular Potions lab. It was made of gleaming copper and set along the edges with gleaming topazes and turquoises. Not the usual sorts of precious stones that would be set along a circle like this, but then, the circle hardly had a usual purpose.

Narcissa closed her eyes. The circle around her still gleamed in her mind. She could have walked the whole border blind without tripping over one of the small jewels.

She heard the circle begin to rotate around her, the soft sound as it scraped through the tiles of the floor. The shimmering image in her mind extended upwards and outwards, forming first a rising circle, then a cone, pointing towards a distant target and waiting for her to give it the impetus to link there.

Narcissa cut her hand with a small silver knife. Potion-infused blood spilled down her palm and over the heel of her hand. The minute it hit the tiles, she knew it would begin to stream, drawn off to form small red circles around the jewels.

She didn't open her eyes to watch it happen. It wasn't necessary.

"Voldemort," she said. "The one who calls himself Voldemort, who has the link to my blood. Find him for me."

There was no response until every jewel was soaked in blood, the circle continuing to rotate to make it easier for that to happen. Then Narcissa saw an image forming in front of her, on the darkness of her closed eyelids, replacing the one of the circle.

Voldemort sat on a throne in a dilapidated house—well, dilapidated from the outside. Inside, he had spread the floors with rich rugs and hung the walls with flowing tapestries. Torches flared in the sconces on the walls. There were random piles of emeralds and rubies in various corners, as if to prove to his Death Eaters that he had all kinds of wealth.

Voldemort himself looked considerably leaner than he had the last time she had seen him. Narcissa smiled without moving her lips. He had managed to slow the starvation curse she had inflicted on him, or he would be dead already. But he could not manage to stop it.

He would die soon enough if she waited. But that would only make _this_ body die, and then he would be a bodiless wraith, with a choice of many more bodies around him to possess. No, the only way to kill him was to eliminate the Horcruxes.

Narcissa turned her head a little, sweeping the place with her magically enhanced gaze. Yes. In a corner, his serpent Nagini lay, watching her master.

Narcissa picked up the dagger that lay next to her on the floor with as little movement as possible. The connection of the circle was unique among magic—Narcissa had been thrilled when she had first discovered it, since it was evidence that Lucius's ancestors had not always been as stupid as they seemed—but it was fragile. Narcissa would break it if she moved too much, or if the blood that had encircled the jewels dried on even one of them.

She had the dagger ready. Narcissa took a deep breath, and said, "The blood binds me to Voldemort. The shared soul binds Voldemort and his serpent. I ask for the connections of the blood and the soul to work for me now."

The magic of the circle shimmered around her, considering it.

Narcissa touched her wand to the dagger and cast the incantation for Fiendfyre.

The flames that roared up around her backlit the image of Voldemort and Nagini with shapes of leaping lions, leopards, and dragons in scarlet and gold. Voldemort jerked and turned his head around as if he had heard something.

He didn't have time to react, if he really had. Narcissa closed her eyes more firmly, the better to watch what happened when the circle sent all of this through, and channeled the Fiendfyre into the dagger and the blood link.

There was more roaring in her ears than she had ever heard in her life, as if she had somehow stumbled into an inferno. Narcissa kept her head, calmly sending the incredible magic into the link that bound her to Voldemort. She was relatively sure that she heard him scream, and she smiled, very slightly.

The sparking and popping of the fire streamed down the blood link, and for a second, Voldemort glowed as if lit from within. Narcissa forced her will onto the Fiendfyre, which wanted to devour the fragile human body that he had entrenched himself into, and forced it to spread to Nagini.

The snake began to thrash and utter what Narcissa suspected were screams in Parseltongue, although of course she couldn't be absolutely sure. She watched in amusement as the writhing became slower and slower and at last died, and at the same moment, the shadow of what looked like a trembling human figure rose from the snake and seemed to take a single step before it, too, departed into smoke.

Voldemort began to scream in turn.

Narcissa found it boring to listen to. She broke the blood connection, and then the one with the dagger. When she opened her eyes, she found the streams of blood that led away from her to the jewels around the circle had almost dried. She had completed the ritual just in time.

She smiled as she went to work cleaning up the ritual tools and the traces of it; this was not a task she would entrust to house-elves. Yes, the Malfoys probably had the only circle in the world that would reach across distance and enable someone to kill or affect the target's area magically without needing to go to it.

Her "Horcrux hunt" was never going to put her or her family at risk again if she could help it.

* * *

"You think Voldemort is going to target us more this year?"

Narcissa rested her hand on Harry's shoulder and bent down towards him, even if their words _would_ mostly be lost in the rush of people towards the Hogwarts Express. "I think he probably has figured out by now that we're targeting his Horcruxes."

"Just from you killing Nagini?"

"It's true that he doesn't have ready access to the rest of them anymore," Narcissa admitted. "At least, not to the diadem and the diary, and he never knew the one in you existed, so it's unlikely that he knows of its destruction. But the locket and the cup? And whatever the seventh Horcrux is?"

"We've got to find out."

"I do have the means to narrow it down." Narcissa bent to kiss him on the brow, on the place where the lightning bolt scar had faded to the point where only someone who knew it was there could have seen it. "But I want you to concern yourself with protecting Draco and passing your NEWT's."

"I did well enough on the OWL's."

"Yes, but these are harder."

Harry spent a moment staring at her, and then his mouth curled up in what looked like a reluctant smile. "All right. I'll get on the train and think about the best ways to protect Draco, Mother." He touched her cheek and walked away to a compartment.

Narcissa turned when someone pulled on her cloak. It was Draco, his face solemn as he studied her. "Did you hear that Professor McGonagall had to find another Defense teacher?"

"Even though the previous one is not dead?" Narcissa nodded. "I am not surprised." The poison she had inflicted on Idunna Freyasdaughter had made her unable to go long without violent bouts of stomach upset—at both ends.

"It's Moody."

"Is it?" Narcissa did not allow herself to express more than polite shock. "I am surprised that he agreed to come out of retirement for any reason."

Draco took another step towards her and lowered his voice. "I'm worried. The gossip says that he has a magical eye that can see through everything, even Invisibility Cloaks like the one Harry has, and he's a close friend of Dumbledore's. What if he knows some of the things Dumbledore wanted to do and tries to do them?" Not even here would he say aloud that Moody might know there had been a Horcrux in Harry, and might not believe that it had been removed. "Or what if he senses what we're doing and tries to stop us?"

Narcissa touched his hair. Draco had grown up into such a handsome young man. Overly serious, some of the time, but so handsome. "I will handle this, Draco. I don't want you worrying about it, do you hear me?"

"But, Mother—"

"I did say something about that I would not tolerate, Draco."

Draco stared at her with narrowed eyes, then nodded. He followed Harry onto the train, and Narcissa turned back for the last farewell.

Lucius kissed her gently on the forehead, then the cheek, then the lips. A few passing adolescents hooted at them. Lucius ignored them graciously. He would have been incapable of that last year, before Narcissa had destroyed most of his Dark Mark. Now it was three-fifths gone; she had done the third ritual over the summer.

"Go," Lucius breathed into her ear. "Be safe. I will be working the political end of things. Already I have any number of people lined up who are tired of the Ministry."

"We are a good team."

"We are." Lucius kissed her again, and backed off when Narcissa gave him a measured glance. Then he nodded to her and turned and walked away towards the entrance that led back to the fireplaces.

Narcissa put a smile on her face for the sake of anyone who was watching, and stepped onto the train. She almost bumped into a tall man with a wooden leg, who stared at her with a whirling blue magical eye.

 _Best to be prepared._ Narcissa smiled. "Professor Moody. I understand that you're joining the Hogwarts staff this year."

"Come with me, Malfoy."

Narcissa sighed and followed the old Auror. She supposed that she shouldn't have expected basic politeness from him.

It remained to be seen how soon she would teach him a lesson about respecting her.


	33. Narcissa Triumphant, Part Two

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Two—Moody_

Narcissa followed Moody down the middle of the train. She could feel people muttering and staring at them. Narcissa ignored them efficiently. She had a relaxed way of moving that made it seem as if her hand wasn't resting on her wand, and her eyes fastened on the precise point of Moody's body that would show the most movement if he turned and hurled a curse at her. She was going to keep herself safe.

And keep her sons safe, as well.

They finally reached an empty compartment at the far end of the train. Moody gestured her through the door first. Narcissa smiled at him and stepped past. She heard him grumble under his breath, but he didn't attack.

 _A good thing, for him,_ Narcissa thought idly, and cast a few detection spells on the inside of the compartment. Nothing showed up to her eyes, ears, nose, or other senses. She turned around and watched Moody slide the door closed.

"You know why I want to speak to you, Professor Malfoy."

"No, actually. If you sent me an owl, it went astray. What is this about, Auror Moody?"

He stared at her long enough to be slightly unnerving, then grunted and scratched his head. "It's Professor Moody now, same as you. I'm taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position this year."

Narcissa nodded and smiled faintly. "Well, then. At least my sons will have a qualified instructor in that subject for once."

Moody stared at her as if he didn't know how to take that. Then he hardened his gaze and said, "I'm aware that you used Dark Arts in the past."

"I know. I have mostly given them up, you know. Not a lot of use in Astronomy for them. There are a few rituals that I do in the privacy of my own home which still require them."

"I meant _in the school._ I want to know why you would do that, when you're supposed to be instructing our students. Protecting them. Keeping them safe from the Dark." Moody angled his body in such a way that he could easily hurt her.

Well, he could hurt the woman she _appeared_ to be, the defenseless Astronomy Professor with only a few O's in magic that was meant to teach instead of harm. Narcissa had no intention of allowing him to strike her, of suffering such a humiliation, but for now there was more worth in holding onto the facade. She let her eyes widen. "What did I do to students last year? No one told me that I was suspected!"

"Had it from the mouth of someone who knows exactly what you did," Moody said, and his voice was gravelly with pleasure. "She'll die soon herself, but she wanted someone to know the truth first. Someone who could do something about it."

 _Idunna._ Narcissa was honestly surprised the woman had lived until the point that she could contact Moody. Well, only her strength of will was dismaying. Narcissa knew that if she had done nothing to take revenge on Idunna, the curse on the Defense position would have struck her, and she would have blamed Narcissa, because that was what Light witches and wizards tended to do.

"Well? Not going to react to the accusation?"

"I would have expected an arrest, from an Auror. Not just an accusation."

Moody hesitated for the first time. "Doesn't meet Auror standards of proof," he finally muttered. "But that doesn't mean I can't have an eye on you, Professor Malfoy."

Narcissa nodded calmly. Yes, prejudice had made Idunna accuse her, and prejudice had made Moody believe her. It was only coincidence that Narcissa was _actually_ responsible for this particular use of Dark Arts. "Well. You may watch me all you like. I have absolutely no intention of endangering our students. Good day, now, Professor Moody. The Headmistress does like me to patrol the train and make sure that no students are getting in trouble or escaping the notice of the prefects."

Moody didn't move. Narcissa gave him a patient sigh, and still it didn't move him. "I don't know if I should let you into the school like this," he said. "Not fit to employ a professor who admits to using the Dark Arts. Not right."

"You said that you didn't have a standard of proof that would satisfy any Auror except you."

The insult buried in those words sailed right past him, as Narcissa had suspected it would. He continued to stare at her suspiciously. "You admitted to using 'em at home."

"And that is not a crime," said Narcissa, who on this point knew the law better than the Aurors. "Not for small matters of heritage and rituals that involve all consenting parties."

"How do _I_ know they were consenting?"

Narcissa laughed. "Well, if you want to question my husband about the rituals employed in our bedroom, then you can." In fact, the last removal of a piece of the Dark Mark had indeed taken place in their bedroom.

Starting back, Moody stared at her before his face flooded with color. "Didn't say I needed to know _that,_ " he complained.

"Well, that's the risk you take when you question someone about _private_ matters." Narcissa was delighted to see that her emphasis on the word made Moody actually stumble back from her, his hands lifted as if to ward her away. Narcissa let out a soft chuckle and swished towards the compartment door. Moody stepped away from her as if she would suddenly start humping his leg.

"I'll find out the Dark Arts you use in school."

"I don't use them there, Professor Moody."

"Whatever was killing Professor Freyasdaughter—"

"She spent a lot of time around Dark magic in the pursuit of her post," Narcissa said, turning her head to give Moody one more glimpse of her patrician profile. It might be an education for him, poor man. He didn't _have_ to be so craggy. "I hope you know better than to blame me for that."

Moody didn't reply, and Narcissa stepped into the corridor. She still smiled as she began the patrol that Minerva did ask of her and which she remembered when it was convenient.

Moody was going to be fun to disconcert.

* * *

Draco was quiet enough that Narcissa would have suspected something was wrong even if she wasn't specifically watching for it. He didn't even respond to the soft teasing Harry was giving him about something in their NEWT Charms class that day. He watched her with a carefully blank face.

Narcissa granted his wish and asked him about it half an hour after he and Harry had arrived in her quarters. "What is it, darling?"

Draco gave only a shade of his usual wince at being called darling. "We had our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class today."

"Will I need to continue my tradition of murdering your Defense teachers?"

"Oi," Harry said mildly, not looking up from the blade he was polishing. "One of those murders was mine."

Narcissa smiled at him. "So it was."

"Moody gave us a lecture about the first war," Draco said, his body tense and hunched in on itself. Narcissa put aside her marking to study him. He was far more tense than she had anticipated. "Some of the—the massacres that happened. I didn't know about them. And he said that we had students in the class who were related to the people that caused those massacres, and people who were related to the victims that died, and he knew who _his_ sympathies were with." Draco dragged a breath out of the bottom of his chest and stared at her. "Mother, was Father as much a monster as all that? I never knew."

She stood, careful not to move too quickly, and walked over to crouch down in front of him. "Not a monster, Draco. Someone who did things that he should not have done, yes."

"But—legally or morally? I mean, do you think that he shouldn't have done those things because he could have been punished for them, or because he really _shouldn't_ have done them? If he participated in killing the whole Bones family…"

Narcissa folded her legs underneath her. It seemed they would sit here for a while. And Harry was listening, too, from across the room, although his hands kept up their soft whisking motions across the blade.

"I do not actually think about things like that," she told Draco. "Not in the same way that Moody does. Legalities do matter to me, but more because I need to know the laws that surround things like practicing the Dark Arts in Hogwarts or what aspects of the discipline I need to keep to myself no matter what and which I might reveal to trusted confidants. I'm not the best one to talk to you about this if you do feel your father did something wrong."

"Legally wrong?"

"Remember that he was acquitted."

"But—his being under the Imperius Curse was a lie."

"Does that mean that he should pay now by going to Azkaban?"

Draco's gaze strayed away from her, and Narcissa nodded. "It's not the kind of question that you can answer as simply as Moody is asking you to answer it, Draco. Moody is good at upending a certain kind of moral righteousness. He's always gone after some of the people in power. But he's not good at handling other kinds. He's not good, for example, at confronting the extremism of the Ministry in that time of war."

"Extremism?" Draco's voice was quiet, his hands folded in his lap and clutching each other as if he wanted to yank his fingers off.

"The Aurors were granted permission to use the Unforgivables. I don't believe it's ever been revoked. Sirius was sent to prison without a trial because that was what the hysteria of the times demanded. You could raise those examples in your next class, and Moody would brush them off. He's not someone who faces _all_ kinds of injustice, Draco. Just the kinds he understands."

"He was trying to get to Draco," Harry said, apparently to the knife he was polishing. "The whole time he was speaking about the crimes of Death Eaters being excused after the first war, he was watching Draco. And then he turned around and spoke about the massacres directly to Susan Bones. I think he's trying to set us against each other."

"That would be a subtler way of imposing his will on the school than Idunna tried," Narcissa murmured. "Did he try to influence you?"

"I think he doesn't know how to deal with me." Harry gave her a smile sharper than the knife he held. "He watched me the whole time he talked about both the pardons and the massacres, and I didn't do anything. And of course he knows I'm your son. He might think I'm evil, or part of a secret resistance against you, or anything, really."

"I'd like you to show slight reactions."

"To what?"

"To everything. If he speaks about the murder of your parents—"

"One set of parents."

Narcissa reached out and gently pressed Harry's shoulder with the flat of her hand for a moment. Then she nodded and agreed, "One set of them. But react to everything, including that. Make it seem as if you know nothing or that you haven't considered it deeply. I want him to talk to you, to see if he tries to persuade you. We might learn more about what his ultimate plans are that way."

"Do you want me to try Legilimency on him if he gets close enough?"

"Draco is more delicate about Legilimency than you are," Narcissa said dryly. _A rampaging Nundu is more delicate._ Harry had become good at Occlumency, but he seemed to like the direct attack too much to read minds with a subtle brush.

"I can do that," Draco said, and he sounded a little more relaxed and a lot more confident. "I can do my best to wield my Legilimency against him."

"We don't know everything about his Occlumency defenses," Narcissa cautioned them.

"I know, Mother, but I want to at least try." Draco licked his lips. "He said that he was giving us things to think about when he was telling us the history of the war, but I don't think he was. I think now that he was—trying to rattle me. I can't believe that I let him get to me so badly."

"You have no experience with this kind of manipulation," Narcissa said. "And you _should_ form your own opinions about your father's actions, and mine, and anything else that could matter to you. The point is that you should be doing so under the influence of your own mind, not your Defense teacher's. Any more than you should trust and obey my every word."

"I know who I think is smarter, between Moody and you," Draco muttered. "I want to do what you want me to do."

Narcissa inclined her head. She wanted her son to think independently, but it was true that that didn't include him doubting her so badly that he stopped obeying her. "Then you might try little throbs of Legilimency against him, to see what happens. In the meantime, Harry, react. Let him think that you're more in need of rescue because you're a Gryffindor that we might have corrupted, and that he _could_ rescue you."

"So we can find out more about what he wants, and whether he really is on any side at all?"

"Exactly," Narcissa said, and watched both her sons smile at her. She would have felt sorry for Moody if such a thing was possible.

 _They have learned better than he realizes._

* * *

Her Floo flared to life one evening a fortnight into the term, when Narcissa was alternating between marking largely worthless essays and taking notes on possible ways to get a Horcrux out of Gringotts, where she believed it might now be. Narcissa was on her feet in seconds, one hand on her wand.

The wards on the Floo hadn't stopped the person on the other side from summoning up the fire at all, which gave her limited possibilities for who it could actually be.

"Narcissa—"

That was Lucius's voice, with a wheezy gasp to it that showed he was running out of blood fast. His head appeared in the flames, but wavering back and forth in a way that showed he wasn't in control of the call. "N-Narcissa—Voldemort is draining me—he wants the strength from my Mark to survive—"

There was enough of the Mark left that that could conceivably happen. Voldemort must at last have decided that Lucius's loyalty was suspect.

"I am coming," Narcissa said, her voice returning a calm expression to Lucius's face for a second before it dissolved into a haze of pain.

The Floo connection dropped, but Narcissa grabbed her own jar of powder and opened another one. She charged straight through the hearth, ducking and rolling in a smooth motion. If Voldemort had gained enough control of Lucius, he might attempt to manipulate her husband's body into attacking her.

Lucius was kneeling on the floor when she turned, and his arm was visibly throbbing and swelling. The snake in the Dark Mark was crawling down towards his wrist, and a black stain was spreading behind it.

Narcissa nodded, unsurprised. It would have been best if they could have waited and eliminated the two-fifths of the Dark Mark remaining piece by piece, as they'd planned on, but she had laid her contingencies for this possibility as well. She reached up and pulled her hair forwards so that it shielded her face.

"Narcissa—you can't—"

There were times that she listened to Lucius and treasured his input. This wasn't one of them. Narcissa Stunned him in a single easy motion and then knelt down next to him, watching the progress of the snake down his arm. She would need to strike when it had reached its fullest extension and pumped the most venom it could into Lucius.

She heard the thumping and shaking at the wards then, accompanied by multiple howls. Narcissa sighed. It was the night of the full moon. That was probably what Lucius had wanted to tell her, that there was a werewolf army attacking their home.

 _It will have to wait._ If Lucius died, the wards would fall anyway before they could latch on to Draco, since he wasn't physically in the room. Narcissa reached out and curled her hands around Lucius's wrist, waiting.

The snake's head sank into Lucius's wrist.

His entire forearm turned black.

Narcissa stabbed down with her knife straight into the Dark Mark.

Lucius's body jolted under her, unconscious or not. Narcissa twisted the knife, and thick liquid began to pour out, too polluted to be called blood or even poison. Narcissa reached deep into Lucius's veins and yanked, pulling, using the anchor of the knife to brace herself and forcing her magic through the marriage bond that she and Lucius shared.

 _He is mine, not Voldemort's._ Her will sank deeper and deeper into his skin, deeper than the brand.

The Dark Mark fought back, but Narcissa had everything on her side: the blood link tying her to Voldemort and confusing the Mark because she had part of its creator within her, the calm matrices the discipline made in her head, blood magic she was prepared to use, the years she had lived with Lucius and how well she knew him. She had shed his blood before. She did it now, and forced his body to generate new blood that pulsed through his veins before they could collapse.

When she drew back at last, Lucius's arm was covered with ash, blood, and what looked like viscera, but he would live.

Now she just had to deal with the werewolf army.


	34. Narcissa Triumphant, Part Three

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Three—A Werewolf Army_

Narcissa stood up and moved towards the windows that looked out over the front gates of the Manor. She touched the panes, and a soft glow lit them and ran down to spark along her fingers. Narcissa looked at the glow in some amusement. It was testing to see if she was a Malfoy and could do as she'd just done.

"Defending yourself from the werewolves at your gates might seem more urgent right now," she murmured.

As if the light had heard her, it turned rapidly into spinning gems of radiance around her fingers and then vanished. Narcissa looked through panes that now pierced the dark as if made of sunbeams, and showed her the vision at the gates even though the Manor sat well back from them.

Just outside the wards paced a howling horde of werewolves, all of them great shaggy beasts with mindless eyes. Narcissa counted them until it became obvious that counting was detrimental to her purpose. It just took up time. She did, however, find the biggest, greyest wolf in the front, pawing at the wards as he howled. Narcissa smiled a little as she drew her dagger and cut her arm in a jagged line.

"I wonder how long it will take you to run once you realize what I am, Fenrir Greyback," she whispered.

The blood ran down the line of the dagger and dripped into the silver bowl Narcissa had already positioned beneath her elbow. There was a flash that seemed to travel throughout the house, this time, instead of only coming from the windows. Narcissa carefully healed the wound and scrubbed away the blood that still remained on her skin. Then she carried the bowl across the room and down the stairs, ignoring the clamoring howls and the sounds of furry bodies hitting the wards.

One could not rush perfection.

Narcissa stepped out into the middle of one of her workrooms. Lucius knew better than to intrude in here, and hadn't even questioned the expense when she had the walls sheathed with black marble. Narcissa placed the silver bowl of blood on the plinth that stood in the middle of the room and closed her eyes.

A soft throb of magic ran through the floor beneath her. Narcissa smiled and reached out, eyes still closed, to a pinch of fresh mandrake, which she scattered into the blood.

The hammering on the wards grew distant. There was nothing of more importance than the magic her hands wove.

Into the blood went aconite and deadly nightshade, along with a crumb of curare that Narcissa had brought back from a trading adventure to a Peruvian marketplace long ago. She used her dagger to scoop that up. Then she stirred the blood with the same dagger, and called the face of Fenrir Greyback in wolf form firmly to mind.

She held the image there as she lifted her hand and drew the dagger across her own throat.

The blood flowed along the dagger and sealed itself, and Narcissa reached out to the image of the madly howling werewolf that was the only important thing in front of her mental eyes right now.

 _I am the blood. I am willing to give my life to do this._

There was always a magic to sacrifice, a poetry to being willing to give one's life—whether or not one gave it. Narcissa felt the great magic flow towards her, magic contained in the Manor. She couldn't access that power that was only available to members of the family, but her own magic could resonate with the fact that spells had been worked inside these walls for generations.

And the Manor responded well to the intentions of someone who wanted to defend it, blood family or not.

The black walls around Narcissa began to glow. Floating from somewhere outside her body, she _sensed_ that more than she _knew_ it. She laughed, or she did what she could with her throat slit and her blood pooling along the dagger, and gathered the power deep inside herself, ready to fling.

The poisoned bowl of blood next to her stirred.

Narcissa reached out to it, more confidently, and spoke the link between magic and blood and poison and dagger and image. If she was willing to give up her life, then it should be for a _good_ cause. She should be able to _kill_ the way she wanted to. A way that had some elegance to it, and would use the maddened werewolf against his kin.

The blood flowed out in thin streams. Again Narcissa saw it with the eyes that were not the body's eyes, but the eyes of her discipline. The streams soared through the door and out through other doors, around corners, down stairs, and finally across the Manor gardens. Then they arched over the top of the weakening wards and dripped onto the head of the wildly leaping Fenrir Greyback.

None of the other werewolves appeared to notice when their leader stopped leaping. None of them probably noticed that the quantity of froth dripping from his jaws was less than before.

But Narcissa noticed. Narcissa knew. She smiled and curled her fingers in towards her palms, breathing softly out.

 _Kill._

Greyback turned and leaped upon the nearest werewolf. It only had time for a surprised shriek before Greyback killed it, biting through its neck with his teeth and pumping his envenomed saliva deep into its veins. The werewolf fell kicking and bleeding as Greyback jumped on another, and another. Some of them didn't even try to defend themselves, they were so surprised. Others fled.

But a ring did turn on Greyback and surround him, snarling, and Narcissa knew that she couldn't stay in his body when he was likely to die. She flickered her consciousness away to the marble-walled room again, and set about solving the small problem that she had cut her throat and was now bleeding to death.

Blood moved at her will, winding around the dagger and holding it against her throat like a temporary dam. Narcissa moved her magic calmly, reflecting off the walls, this time directing it to heal rather than make the poisoned blood flow towards Greyback.

The progress did seem to be slower than it otherwise would be, although that might be simply a reflection of the detached way that her spirit hovered back from her body. It might indicate a problem, as well.

Narcissa sighed. Sometimes she wondered why her body and her blood could not simply do as her will commanded them.

She channeled more magic. The marble on the walls amplified it, and it came beaming back to the wound in her throat like sunlight.

Narcissa felt her body sinking and settling, although it didn't affect the hovering viewpoint that she enjoyed at the moment. The wound was healing steadily, but she had lost a lot of blood, she had to admit. It was annoying.

"Narcissa!"

And that was Lucius, having recovered faster than she had thought he would. Or perhaps he wasn't fully recovered, Narcissa mused as she turned her spiritual body to face him. He still looked as pale as salt.

But he laid his own wand against her throat and spoke the words of a simple healing spell, and that helped. Narcissa sighed and released enough control that she got pulled into her body again. She drew a breath against the pain, and another, grateful that she could do so without the bubbling of blood within her wound.

"You—you didn't need to do that," Lucius whispered, kneeling next to her. "I could have taken control of the wards."

"I thought you would be unconscious for the rest of the evening," Narcissa retorted, holding out one hand. Lucius took it and helped her to a sitting position. Narcissa leaned on her husband's shoulder for a moment. "Would you care to look through the windows and see how the werewolves are handling themselves?"

Lucius's eyes unfocused as he turned his head, and then he chuckled nastily. "The only ones left are fighting each other. Most of them have fled. Then again, werewolves without the potion aren't good at fixating on a goal. They need a leader." He leaned more heavily against Narcissa, revealing that he was still tired. "And Fenrir Greyback appears to have been torn into at least five pieces."

"Only five?"

Lucius had already fallen asleep again, sagging back against her. Narcissa sighed and called for the house-elves to help them into bed, grateful that she had a whole throat with which to do so.

* * *

"You've never missed breakfast before, Professor Malfoy."

"Yes, but I've also never held off an army of werewolves before," Narcissa said, and enjoyed the silence that came from Moody's direction as she finished the plate of roasted chicken in front of her. After the kind of magic she had employed last night, she always craved meat.

"That's impossible," Moody finally said. "I would have heard about an army of werewolves."

"Oh, not near Hogwarts," Narcissa murmured, and finished her lunch and stood up. Her long nap this morning, although not disastrous since she taught her classes in the evening, meant she was behind on the pile of marking.

"An army of werewolves?"

Narcissa met Minerva's gaze and smiled a little. "Yes. It seemed that Voldemort saw fit to attack my home."

More silence was spreading. More professors were gaping at her. Narcissa wondered idly how many of them might be spies for Voldemort, even if blackmailed into it, the way Aurora Sinistra had been. Well, the poor darling had to get his news _somehow_.

"That shouldn't be possible," whispered Rolanda Hooch.

"It wouldn't be possible without Dark magic." Moody rose to his feet with a clatter from his wooden leg. "What did you _do_ , Professor Malfoy?"

"Saved my home," Narcissa said, and walked away from the fool. She understood why Minerva had wanted to hire an Auror, but it could have been someone with a more flexible view of the world.

Moody clattered after her, and caught up with her once they were out of the Great Hall. "I cannot condone Dark magic—"

"Not used by the Ministry?"

"Not _ever_ ," Moody snarled at her, and limped around in front of her. Narcissa sighed. That was part of the problem that came with slitting one's own throat the night before. Not even the discipline could enable her to move fast enough to avoid being cornered yet. "You can't play with the Dark Arts and expect to remain untainted!"

Narcissa leaned towards him. "I find it _interesting_ that you are more concerned with what I did than with who sent those werewolves against us, and what they would have done if they had succeeded in attacking my home," she whispered.

Moody dismissed that with a flick of his hand. "You-Know-Who is going to do what he's going to do. But _you_ ought to know better."

Narcissa shook her head. "His name is Voldemort. Should I believe that you are a Death Eater since you can't say it?"

Moody jerked back from her. Narcissa resumed her interrupted walk, and knew that he was standing there and watching her go instead of trying to follow.

He did shout when she was mostly up the staircase that led to the first floor, " _Going_ to find out if you used the Dark Arts!"

"Going to find out if you knew about the Headmaster's plans," Narcissa said over her shoulder. She thought it possible. Moody had been part of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, and his close friend.

Moody didn't seem to know what she was talking about. At least, his silence behind her was baffled. Narcissa smiled a little and entered her quarters.

Her sons stood up from the couch in the center of the room and advanced on her. Narcissa studied them for a moment. "Yes?" she asked, as Draco draped a shawl around her shoulders and Harry cast a Warming Charm on it.

"You need help," Draco said, and rubbed her shoulders briskly for a moment, until Narcissa squeezed his hand in silent question. Then he stepped back and scowled horribly, in a way that honestly impressed her. "Moody has no right to _question_ you like that, when you're still magically exhausted."

"He would question me at any time. I must be as prepared to meet him when I am magically exhausted as at any other time."

"Do you want me to kill him, Mother?"

Narcissa looked Harry mildly in the eye until he flushed and glanced at the floor. "Where in the way I just acted was any hint of asking for his death?"

"He shouldn't be allowed to get away with questioning you like that."

"So you keep repeating, Draco, but he is an Auror, and probably a spy from the factions in the Ministry who worry about my growing power. We cannot act openly against him right now."

Draco turned away, his mouth a tight line. Narcissa studied him and sipped the cup of tea that Harry had made for her. "Well, what is it? Is he troubling you so much in class that you want to take some kind of vengeance on him out of it?"

"He's engaging me in debate," Draco said, his voice muffled. He sat down heavily on the couch they'd been sitting on before, and Harry took a seat beside him and gently ran a hand through his hair. Narcissa saw the lines around Draco's mouth relax, but he kept his head turned away, his shoulders hunched. "It's just that he does it with questions to the rest of the class, so _everyone_ is debating me. And they're getting further and further away from thinking that Father did _anything_ honorable in the war."

"Moody is using the debates to make the rest of the class hate Draco," Harry added quietly, and pulled until Draco's head was resting in his lap. "Draco hates it."

"And them." Draco curled up harder against Harry's side.

"Imagine that the worst-case scenario comes true, and Moody makes everyone hate you thoroughly," Narcissa said quietly, drawing her sons' attention. "What would you do in that case, Draco?"

"Watch my back very carefully as I go through the corridors? Since I won't be allowed to hex them if we keep to your regime, Mother, but they can do whatever they want to me."

Narcissa's silence made Harry wince a little, but Draco watched her with bitter eyes. Harry did start to open his mouth, but Narcissa glanced at him, and he nodded and sighed and shut it. Narcissa laid out the conclusions, since Draco was too consumed by his anger at the moment to work through to them.

"Then they hate you. You take it in silence, because you know that nothing can _truly_ affect your honor and the pride you have in your family. You have shields so that you can deflect childish hexes. If they use anything worse than that, then they've violated school rules and you can report them. They would be in the wrong, not you. You sneer at them, you offer insults that don't sound like insults and will provoke them into rash actions and leave you looking innocent, and you wait for the day you can take revenge."

"But—that sounds like the way that you act."

Narcissa smiled and lifted her empty teacup to her son. "And the way that your father acts, now. Although I concede that he didn't when the Dark Mark was blurring his senses."

"What _did_ happen, Mother? You never really explained, and we didn't have the time to talk to you after lunch."

"Voldemort decided that your father's loyalty was suspect at last, and proceeded to poison him through the Dark Mark…"

Narcissa laid it out simply and smoothly, not skipping the part where she had slit her own throat to defeat the werewolves. They listened in what looked like sick fascination, clutching each other's hands. Narcissa wound down and leaned back against the chair, watching the fire as it danced.

"Please never do that again, Mother."

It was Harry who was kneeling on the floor by her chair, staring at her with wide-open eyes and a pale face. Narcissa reached out and gently stroked his cheek. "I will try never to do that again, dearest," she murmured. "I hardly liked it myself. But it had to be done, and that was the surest way, the way that I thought I had a chance of surviving."

"But you didn't _know_."

"I didn't know for sure that my curse would work on Voldemort, or that you would take to the discipline, or that you and Draco would fall in love. Some risks are worth taking."

"Even if you deprived us of a mother?" Draco demanded harshly from the couch where he was sitting, his hands wound together.

"Sometimes," Narcissa said quietly.

Neither of her sons seemed to know what to say to that. Narcissa leaned down to kiss Harry on the forehead where his scar had once been, then stood and crossed over to the couch to kiss Draco in the same place. "It's well now. I survived, and you can stop having nightmares of what _might_ have happened, and go back to baiting Moody."

They still insisted on remaining with her while Narcissa prepared for her classes that night, and remaining within her quarters to wait for her after she came back from them. Narcissa shook her head a little as she walked up the stairs, carrying a pile of marked parchment with her.

 _They are wonderful sons, the best a mother could ask for. Even if they do worry rather too much._


	35. Narcissa Triumphant, Part Four

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Four—War and Fire_

"Professor Malfoy!"

"We do have to stop meeting like this, Professor Moody," Narcissa said, shaking her head a little as she slowed in the corridor leading to the Great Hall. She hadn't even had breakfast yet, which made this a new record for Moody cornering her. She continued to walk, forcing Moody to limp alongside her. "What is it? Did one of the detentions you gave not do what you wanted it to do? I can give you some tips on detentions that work but don't involve—"

"You know I'm talking about the Dark magic that you used to save your home, Professor Malfoy."

"Which isn't illegal, the kinds of rituals that one can perform in the privacy of one's own home, Professor Moody. Or are you saying that I should have let the home of my sons' childhood be destroyed, and my husband die, rather than use Dark magic?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Moody turned around and managed to get in front of her, planting his wooden peg and glaring at her. "There are _lines_ that should not be crossed!"

"I completely agree. For example, one of my lines is not waging backbiting war against students I don't like simply because of something their family did." Narcissa moved a step nearer, ignoring the fact that Moody didn't shift. "What do you think of _that_ particular line, Professor Moody?"

The man was silent, his eyes fixated on her, even the magical eye not roaming around his face the way it usually did. Then he let out an explosive snort. "Crimes need to be paid for. And sometimes the Wizengamot isn't good about seeing justice done."

"What crime has my son committed? When was his Wizengamot trial?"

Moody slammed his peg into the floor again. "You know as well as I do that I'm talking about your _husband_ , madam."

"And you intend to make my husband pay for the crimes he was _acquitted_ of by punishing his son. And also the students in your class that you subject to war stories, regardless of whether or not they lost family members in the war, whether or not it might scar them. How considerate of you, Professor Moody."

"Which of them complained?"

Narcissa smiled at him and stepped gracefully around him. Moody was battle-trained, but he was also hampered by his missing leg, and by the time he was stumping after her again, Narcissa had reached the stairs.

"Stop running away from me, Professor Malfoy!"

Narcissa sighed and shook her head. "When you continue to tell me it would be better if my husband had died and my home was destroyed, and when you continue to hold my son responsible for a war that ended when he was _one_ , I see no point in continuing the conversation, Professor Moody."

There were other people around now, watching, which was probably why Moody had made the announcement as loudly as he had. He didn't appear to have thought she would use the same tactic on him. He scowled for a second, then stumped further along the staircase and turned in a different direction on the third floor.

Narcissa walked the rest of the way to breakfast, and maintained her secret smile, and shook her head when she caught Draco's stare from the Slytherin table. No. She didn't need him to go after Moody for her. Narcissa already had a plan for that in mind.

* * *

"Come in, Miss Bones."

Narcissa watched in some curiosity as Susan Bones came to sit in the chair in front of her. Ever since the incident last year when her friend Hannah Abbott had "dueled" Harry and Bones had been her second, and then Amelia Bones had been murdered and Harry tried for her murder, Narcissa had expected coolness between the Bones family and the Malfoys. And Bones had indeed held herself aloof in classes this year. She'd also been one of the students listening intently to Moody's stories of the war in Defense class, according to Draco. And why not? Her parents and brothers had died then, her aunt only recently.

But the young woman who sat down in front of her now and smoothed her skirt across her knees was a calm-looking one. If she was acting, she was an actress Narcissa would have liked to have the training of. "I wanted to ask you some questions about what Professor Moody was saying this morning, Professor Malfoy."

"All right, Miss Bones. Keep in mind that I may not answer them."

Bones bit her lip and nodded. "All right," she echoed. "Is it—it's _true_ that you held off a werewolf army that was trying to destroy your home and kill Mr. Malfoy?"

"I did indeed, Miss Bones. Using some of the private rituals that the Ministry does classify as Dark."

"Oh. And—it's true that your husband was acquitted by the Wizengamot for being accused of being a Death Eater?"

"It is." Narcissa saw no reason to deny the truth. That was the matter of public trial records that Bones could look up in any case, and Narcissa would only look stupid if she tried to deny it.

"But he still did some awful things. Even though he was under the Imperius Curse."

"Yes. I will not lie. To an extent, no remorse can make up for the losses that some of the people he attacked suffered."

Bones closed her eyes. Narcissa waited, not sure what was coming next. It was probably something about Draco or Harry, but then again, Moody hadn't included specific accusations about them this morning. Their behavior in his classes, pretending not to notice the insults and forcing their classmates or Moody to say something definitive and actionable, was working well.

"Can I—how do I report a professor to the Ministry for improper teaching, Professor Malfoy? Because all Professor Moody tells us is war stories, and he tries to make us hate each other! It's not _fair_."

Narcissa smiled at her. To think she should find an ally when she hadn't been looking for her. Then again, Narcissa had often found that the universe showered gifts on the deserving.

"In fact, Miss Bones," she said, reaching down and drawing out a piece of parchment that she'd started that morning, "I was preparing to file an official complaint myself. But it would help if it came with corroborating evidence from a student in Professor Moody's Defense class, so that it doesn't simply look like the report of a disgruntled parent."

Bones gave a grim smile. "I'm perfectly happy to help you, Professor Malfoy. I can't stand unfairness." She hesitated, then added, "And the way they tried Harry for my aunt's…death was unfair, too."

"I am glad that you think so, Miss Bones."

"Is there any way to make them realize that?"

"Oh, they will," Narcissa said softly as she watched Bones begin to write down her own observations and specific examples. "They may not realize it yet, but they will soon."

* * *

"Cissy! Cissy!"

Narcissa sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Sirius, do you realize that I teach until midnight and that you've Flooed me at five in the morning?" she murmured, but smiled when she saw the way her cousin's head wobbled in the fire. It meant he was trying to bounce up and down even though he was also kneeling to thrust his head into the hearth.

"You obviously fell asleep at your desk marking. It's not like I interrupted _good_ sleep," Sirius said, and then beamed at her. "You'll never guess what I found!"

"A way to become a mature, responsible adult?"

"You're my conscience, I don't need one," said Sirius brightly. "No. I found what I'm sure is another of Voldemort's Horcruxes! There was something about a locket, right? You were looking for one? A locket that used to belong to Salazar Slytherin?"

Narcissa caught her breath and managed not to hiss. Here she had been trying to think of a way to search for it when it had probably been stolen from Hezpibah Smith, and Sirius had had it all along. "Where did you retrieve it from?"

"The cabinet upstairs."

Narcissa stared at him. Sirius laughed. "It's a rare day when I can make _you_ speechless!" he said, and the flames wavered so hard that they almost went out. Sirius managed to hold still enough for long enough that they didn't. "It turns out that Regulus somehow discovered where it was. Something about Voldemort using Kreacher to hide it, and then Regulus went to destroy it, and he put a copy where the real locket was, and he died from some kind of poison there, but he gave the real Horcrux to Kreacher to take back and hide somewhere, and Kreacher tried to destroy it, but he couldn't, and—"

"Calm down." Narcissa said that sternly enough that Sirius finally did flash her a sheepish smile and stop talking. "Are you sure that this isn't some kind of trick? Kreacher has been less than amenable in the past. Could he have created a trap for you? Perhaps something that would poison you as he claimed Regulus was poisoned?"

Narcissa's mind was leaping between ideas even as she spoke. It was true that Regulus had disappeared abruptly, and no one knew why. And it was true that Kreacher had been loyal to Regulus and would have obeyed him in any way possible, even by leaving him to die and accepting a locket that turned out to be indestructible.

"You ought to come here and feel this fucking thing for yourself, Cissy," Sirius said. The smile faded from his face for the first time all conversation. "It feels—dirty."

Narcissa decided. As exhausted as she was, a Horcrux was important, and she was the only one who might be able to tell the difference between a regular Dark artifact and an actual Horcrux. "I'm on my way over. Make sure that you're only touching the locket with silk or salt, not—"

"Not my bare hand. Honestly, Cissy, I know better than _that_."

Sirius's face disappeared from the fire. Narcissa shook her head in amusement and stood, tossing her hair behind her shoulder, then strode to the hearth. A simple handful of Floo powder took her through to Grimmauld Place, and the minute she felt her skin trying to crawl off her bones, she knew Sirius was right.

She turned around to find Sirius holding out a piece of silk with the locket on it. Narcissa examined it carefully. Yes, the locket with a gaudy serpent, or S, on the front made of emeralds looked exactly like the description she'd got from Burke's mind when she visited his shop several months ago. And the locket rattled when she stared at it, as if it knew that she wanted to destroy it.

"We can do it now?" Sirius was practically hopping up and down.

"If you don't mind me casting Fiendfyre in your gardens," Narcissa said, and drew her wand.

Sirius drew back with a gasp, but then he swallowed and forced himself to shrug and smile. "That'll do it? I'm sure the garden's had worse things than Fiendfyre cast in it." He turned to lead the way out.

Kreacher appeared in front of them the next moment, wringing his ears. Narcissa froze Sirius with a look when he started to say something. She would rather hear the story from the elf's mouth. "Yes, Kreacher?"

"That is Master Regulus's locket." Kreacher never glanced at either of them, which was highly unusual when he was in front of wizards. All his attention was locked on the Horcrux, as if he thought that he might have to snatch it from them.

"Yes, it is." Narcissa kept her voice quiet and gentle. "Can you tell me how you came to have it?"

"I _told_ you that, Cissy!"

"Your account was enthusiastic but not very coherent. Be _quiet_ , Sirius."

Kreacher twitched his ears and stared a little harder at Narcissa. Then he nodded. "Master Regulus be lending me to bad wizard when he goes to cave." His voice dropped, to the point that Narcissa knelt down to hear him. "I was being on the verge of dying, but Master Regulus, he said, return. So I returned. Master Regulus was angry, so angry! He truly cared about poor Kreacher." The tears that ran down Kreacher's face wore paths in the grime.

Narcissa felt her own face tighten. _I know that Sirius doesn't care for this elf, but if nothing else, he should have made sure that Kreacher had a clean place to sleep and clothes to wear. It's disgraceful to have one that looks like this._

"Master Regulus, he asked questions, yes, he did. And he be figuring out that bad wizard hid a powerful artifact in the cave. And he took me back, and he drank the poison himself, and he replaced the locket. Kreacher didn't want to be leaving Master Regulus, no, he didn't." Kreacher's hands rose and pulled at his ears as if he was going to yank them off his head, but it seemed to be an absent gesture, done for the sake of doing it more than because Kreacher really wanted to punish himself. "But Master Regulus, he gave poor Kreacher no choice. Kreacher has been trying to destroy the locket for years, because that is what Master Regulus would have wanted." He began to blubber, and now snot was running down his face as well as tears. Narcissa still didn't move away. "But Kreacher could never destroy it. Mistress Narcissa is going to destroy it?"

"Yes," Narcissa said quietly. She glanced at Sirius, who was watching her dumbstruck. At least that meant that he wasn't making a move to interfere, either. "I am going to use Fiendfyre on it, Kreacher. I never met the Dark artifact yet that Fiendfyre couldn't destroy."

Kreacher flung his arms around her neck and cried unabashedly. Narcissa patted his back and made a mental note to thoroughly wash her neck and clothes later. "Mistress Narcissa is such a good, kind mistress," he sobbed. "Master Regulus would have liked to be here to see her destroy it, yes, he would."

"I don't understand _any_ of this," Sirius interrupted loudly. "Why would Regulus want to destroy a Horcrux? Why would he give up his own life to do it? He was a Death Eater!"

Kreacher glared at Sirius, which at least meant Narcissa could cast the first of the cleaning spells. "Master Regulus was a good, kind wizard!" he declared, with a stamp of his begrimed foot. "He is understanding Kreacher, and he is never wanting to serve bad wizard! He only be doing it because Mistress and Master said he should!"

"You mean my parents?"

"Mistress and Master," Kreacher repeated, and Narcissa was sure that he was talking about Walburga and Orion. "But Master Regulus, he wanted to be proud, he wanted to make Master and Mistress proud, but he did not want to be torturing people. So he decided to turn on bad wizard and destroy him." He drooped abruptly. "But Kreacher never succeeded in destroying the locket."

"We are going to do it now," Narcissa told him. "Do you want to come along?"

" _Cissy_!"

Narcissa turned, and made Sirius shrink back a little with the way she looked at him. It wasn't his fault, truly. He had never been the one to make Regulus think that he had to follow Voldemort, and just because he had run away didn't mean that Walburga and Orion had been harder on Regulus; they probably would have been that way anyway. But at the moment, Narcissa didn't want to hear his excuses.

"Right." Sirius cleared his throat and fell in behind her.

* * *

Narcissa placed the locket on the ground in the back garden of Grimmauld Place and moved carefully away from it. It seemed to shimmer and twist for a minute, as though the soul-shard inside it knew exactly what was coming.

"Yes, you might," Narcissa breathed, and cast the incantation for Fiendfyre.

It came roaring out of her wand, leaping and twisting around itself, flames colliding and soaring upwards until the sheer heat of it made her face feel as if it was going to melt. It crept towards her and tugged at her feet with one squid-coil. Fiendfyre always wanted to get out of control and devour the one who had dared to call it.

Narcissa spurned it with a tap of her foot and sent it at the locket.

The locket did open before the Fiendfyre got there, and Narcissa caught a glimpse of Lucius with his face twisted to resemble a corpse's, before it became Harry with a knife in his hand and the expression of a maniac in his eyes. The fire ate the locket before it had time to change into a representation of Draco, who Narcissa assumed would come next. She shook her head as she heard the high, thin scream.

 _I hope that was enough of a memorial to you, Regulus. I hope that you can feel Voldemort dying._

She controlled the Fiendfyre with a twist of her wand—it tried some nonsense, of course, but Narcissa simply shut that down—and faced Sirius again. His mouth was open, and he was looking back and forth between her and the charred patch of grass as if she had done something astounding.

"What?" Narcissa asked him.

Sirius swallowed. "I used to think that you didn't succumb to the allure of Dark magic because you're just so good at it, but—you just don't _care_ about it, do you? You don't find it tempting."

"No," Narcissa said. "My temptations lie in things I can do myself, and not in what someone or something else might offer me." She glanced at Kreacher, and found him standing with his hands clasped before his chest and his gaze fixed on the place the locket had been.

"And I do like to give other people some of what they want," she added. "You really should order him to wash himself, Sirius." And she went into the house.


	36. Narcissa Triumphant, Part Five

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Five—A Response_

"And if you could detail what you witnessed?"

Dean Thomas nodded strongly and started writing, his jaw set. "It's not right, what he's trying to imply about Harry," he muttered as he scribbled down some of his observations of Moody's class. "I don't care if he is a professor, Harry's saved us all a lot, and then Moody tries to come in and imply that he's Dark just because he got himself adopted by you? That's ridiculous."

Narcissa smiled. "I entirely agree, Mr. Thomas." Harry was Dark because he followed the discipline and had learned some Dark spells, not because he had been adopted.

Thomas stepped back, and Longbottom came forwards. Narcissa watched him with her eyebrows slightly raised. Draco had been all but certain that Longbottom wouldn't join their protest against Moody because of his parents' past during the war and Narcissa's relationship with Bellatrix Lestrange, although Harry had been less certain.

"Yes. Mr. Longbottom?"

"I—I think the same thing as Dean," Longbottom whispered, glancing around her quarters. Narcissa was collecting the responses from students that proved Moody an unworthy teacher here, rather than in her office, on the slight chance that Moody might try to use her legal status as a professor with power over students against her. Students had to actually seek out her quarters and confirm that they weren't bargaining for a better mark if they wanted to put their observations down. "Moody spends way too much time talking about the past war and not the current one."

Narcissa nodded. Harry had been right, then. Longbottom was marked by that previous war, but that was all the more reason that he didn't want to waste time dwelling on it. "Very well, Mr. Longbottom. Please write down everything you have a solid memory of and would be willing to testify about."

Longbottom's hand stopped reaching for the quill. "Te-testify?"

Narcissa shrugged. "Professor Moody is popular in the Ministry among certain people. I want to make sure we have the weight of voices against him we need."

She did think for a moment that Longbottom would leave without adding his name and observations, but a second later he took a deep breath, seized the quill, and began to write.

Narcissa smiled.

* * *

Narcissa slipped like a shadow out of Trelawney's Tower, a faint smile on her face and her hands clutched around a blue quartz globe. Her institution that the worthless professor might possess some useful Divination objects inherited from her predecessors had been correct.

Not that there wasn't some risk to using this globe, not least the risk that she might go mad. But Narcissa was used to worse.

She sought a secluded room on the fourth floor that she had identified a week back, one that had a powerful spell remnant lingering around it which managed to make everyone who came near it feel uneasy and find an excuse to back away. It had taken her an hour of meditation to make sure that it was only residue and not an actual indication of danger's presence. She took her seat on the chair she'd conjured earlier and laid the globe in the hollow of a table she'd filched from the junk room where she and Idunna had found the diadem.

"Speak to me," she murmured.

The globe slowly warmed up beneath her hands. Narcissa kept them in place and closed her eyes. The globe was an aid to Sight, but as Trelawney should have remembered, it was the _Inner_ Eye that it stimulated. Gazing into crystal did nothing except for the very rare people who were talented with that material.

The blue glow that Narcissa saw behind her eyelids swirled like the smoke in Trelawney's room, and the sense of an alien, questioning mind touched hers.

"Hufflepuff's cup," Narcissa whispered. She was all but certain the cup was a Horcrux. But she had come no nearer being certain where it was held. She doubted it would conveniently appear, the way the locket had, in some other cabinet in the Black properties.

The blue swirl turned a slow, poisonous green. Narcissa remained calm and alert. It was entirely possible that the truth would appear to her in symbols instead of a true vision. She knew how tricky prophecy was, and an artifact that activated the Sight might be even more so.

The world around them glittered and seemed to bounce. Narcissa found herself falling down as from a height towards a shining, square white block, which might be meant to stand for a building. And then she blew through a door like a wind, and found herself hearing a distant voice sing a scrap of verse.

 _Of finding more than treasure there…_

In the final moment of the vision, she seemed to flip and land on her feet the way she would if she had turned a fall into a somersault, and a huge crest rose in front of her. It blazed clearly for only a moment before she slammed into it and the vision ceased.

Narcissa opened her eyes and found herself sitting in front of the globe. She traced the top of it with a thoughtful hand while she slowly smiled.

The vision had been as ambiguous as it could be, but she still knew what it meant. The scrap of verse came from the warning to thieves engraved on the doors of Gringotts. And the crest had been a great capital letter L draped with vines and with two ravens soaring overhead.

The cup was in Gringotts, in the Lestrange vault.

"So he entrusted it to you, sweet sister," Narcissa whispered.

* * *

Narcissa stood tall in the prow of the boat and watched the island grow nearer. The mist billowed and stirred around her, rather the way the blue smoke had in the vision the globe had given her. The world shivered with despair as the Dementors of Azkaban sensed them and began to press closer.

Narcissa flicked her wand, and the grizzly Patronus that appeared to prowl next to her drove them cowering away.

"That's remarkable," said the Auror sitting next to her, and nodded to her. "Did you know that the form your Patronus takes shows what Animagus form you would have if you could achieve it?"

"Fascinating," Narcissa murmured.

She stepped out of the boat the minute it touched the shore. The grey walls ahead shone with grime and dripping water, ice and broken stone. Narcissa walked from Auror to Auror, down the chain, speaking the right words while looking ahead all the while. She had only had to say that she suspected Bella of paying money for an attempt on Harry's life, and they had brought her right away. The public had decided that it adored Harry again after Voldemort's attempt to make him seem responsible for Amelia Bones's death.

Narcissa had little patience for the public, but occasionally even they served a purpose.

She knew she was close to the right cell when she heard the sound of mad cackling. Narcissa sighed and shook her head. She liked to think that _she_ would keep up standards even if she was the imprisoned one—such as laughing, not cackling.

"Don't know if you're going to get much out of her, Mrs. Malfoy. She's like this all the time. Truly mad."

"That may be the case, but I need to speak with her anyway."

The Auror nodded and stepped back. They always allowed the family members who came to see the prisoners a modicum of privacy. Narcissa could understand that, approve of it in this case, and still think basic eavesdropping charms a necessity.

Then again, she was not in charge of Azkaban any more than she was a prisoner there. She stepped closer to the bars and studied the tangle of black hair in front of her, so thick that it covered any trace of robes or hands. "Bella?"

The tangle of black hair trembled, and then spun around. It was like watching an ambling bush, sad and shaggy. "Cissy," said the whisper from the middle of the bush, and then a hand did appear after all, rising to clutch the bars. "Have you come to get me out? Did our Lord send you to get me out?"

Narcissa sighed. That was probably the deepest manifestation of Bella's madness, that she thought Narcissa would bow to a pathetic creature like Voldemort.

"He wants you out," she said, bending down near Bella's ear and speaking softly. "But he needs for just one thing to happen first. He needs to be assured that you never abandoned your loyalty to him while you spent time in prison."

"I never did! I swear, I swear, I swear—"

Narcissa cut off the rising shriek that might well have carried to the Auror's ears. "Listen to me. He needs to _know_. _I_ need to know. That means that you have to pass a test, and give permission for me to retrieve the treasure he once entrusted to you."

"You know about the treasure. You know."

Narcissa nodded even though it hadn't been phrased as a question. She couldn't expect her sister to have retained a basic sense of courtesy, given her other delusions. "I do. But the security on it means that I can't simply go and retrieve it myself—and the Dark Lord doesn't want me to, in any case. I need to know if you will prove your loyalty and allow someone else to enter your vault."

There was only a moment of silence before Bella chuckled, hard and watery and long. "Yes. You need me to enter the vault—I need to be there, or Rodolphus needs to be there. But it never said the whole of us. It never said the _whole_ , eh?" She abruptly clenched her hand into a fist, except for the middle finger she left sticking out. "Cut it off and bring it with you. By the laws of Gringotts, it counts as permission."

Narcissa had known that, and had intended to remove a hand from Rodolphus or Rabastan if she needed to, but it was better for the magic and her chances of walking away with the cup to have the flesh offered freely. She still made a show of reluctance as she drew her wand. "You're sure?"

"The Dark Lord has _all_ my loyalty! _All_!"

Her shrieks might have brought the guard back again, so Narcissa acted quickly, two spells cast together as she'd done in the past. One of them severed Bellatrix's finger, and the other cauterized the wound. Bella never even flinched. Narcissa frowned as she cast another charm that would numb the finger and prevent any pain from touching her sister. A Black would make a sacrifice like that, without screaming, for a worthy cause. It was only a pity that her sister's definition of "worthy cause" and her own differed so wildly.

"You'll take care of it," Bella whispered. "You'll serve him."

Narcissa knelt down so that her eyes were level with her sister's, and their wild gleam behind that thicket of hair. "I swear, Bella, I'm going to give the Dark Lord exactly what he deserves from me."

Bella was a Legilimens and could have detected lies, but technically nothing Narcissa said had been a lie. Bella exhaled now and reached out a wavering hand to touch Narcissa's hair, not seeming to notice that she only had four fingers on that hand. "Good, sister. Good."

* * *

"It is _most_ irregular to allow you to access the Lestrange vault."

Narcissa smiled slightly. She had been seated in an uncomfortable goblin office for the past three hours, while they waited for her to leave. The waiting game was one the goblins played more often than most people realized. She leaned forwards to address the small goblin who stood scowling at her from near the door. "I know that the vault opens to the hand of one of the authorized people. You saw what I carry. And you know from the magic you passed over it that it was given to me willingly."

The scowl deepened on the goblin's face to the point that he looked as if he might bite. Then he shook his head and muttered, "What are people coming to, cutting off their fingers? In _my_ day it was a whole hand or nothing," and spun around to march out. Narcissa followed, since this time they'd left the door open.

The cart ride down led them past a dragon, whom Narcissa ignored. The poor thing was hardly a match for the ones she had sent to sleep when she sought to prevent Harry from having to compete in the Tournament. She stepped out near the Lestrange vault and leaned forwards, Bellatrix's finger touching the door.

It vanished like spilled water. The goblin watched with narrowed eyes as she stepped into the vault and looked around.

Rodolphus and Rabastan, like most rich wizards, liked to flaunt their wealth, and Bella certainly would have done nothing to stop them when she married Rodolphus. Gold coins sprawled across the floor and leaned against the walls in bulky stacks. Crowns and scepters and pendants and forms of jewelry that Narcissa would have found too vulgar to wear to a costume party dangled and dripped from shelves. There were surprisingly few books; the ones that stood there appeared to have been kept solely for their gaudy, glittering covers.

It took Narcissa perhaps three minutes to locate Hufflepuff's cup, which made her think she should resume her own training soon. She made sure that Bellatrix's finger was the first to touch the cup, and the shimmer of the curses guarding it popped like a soap bubble. Narcissa then wrapped her own hand in silk to gather it up.

"What is that?" The goblin was on point like a dog when Narcissa turned around, holding the cup.

"An artifact," Narcissa said, in a sweet enough voice that the goblin nodded along for a moment before realizing it and glaring at her.

"I insist that you tell me."

"I have." The goblins held strictly to legal niceties, one reason they had an edge over wizards who would expect to play by the spirit and not the letter of the law. Narcissa, on the other hand, had no expectation of either.

The goblin muttered and kicked the side of the vault doorway and said impolite things in Gobbledegook all the way back to the surface. Narcissa, the layer of silk separating her from the Horcrux that was trying to burn her hands and her lap, didn't care.

* * *

"I thought you might want to destroy this Horcrux yourself."

Harry's eyes were wide as they locked on the glittering, badger-decorated cup sitting in the middle of the table in Narcissa's quarters. "You'd let me? I mean, I just thought you were going to take care of all of them."

Narcissa smiled and sipped from the cup of mulled wine that she'd rewarded herself with after her successful return from Gringotts. "You're seventeen now, dear, and you no longer have the vulnerability of the Horcrux in your head that might interact with this one. The only person that you've been able to take vengeance on directly was Umbridge. I wanted to offer you this one."

Harry nodded slowly, eyes locked on the cup. "You think I can control Fiendfyre well enough to do the job?"

"Yes." Narcissa did have contingent wards that would go up around the table, just in case, but she thought that Harry had enough self-discipline, strength of will, and command of Dark magic to do this job without the extra reassurance.

Harry nodded again. A hint of a tooth was showing as he began to smile, which reminded Narcissa of a dragon slowly baring its fangs. He drew his wand and paced over to stand opposite the cup.

The thing apparently had more sentience than Narcissa had given it credit for, because a subtle glow promptly surrounded it. And then a voice sighed out as though it was coming from several different directions. " _Harry_."

Harry didn't flinch or move from his battle-ready stance. Neither did Narcissa. She had told Harry he could handle this, and she still believed that. She would intervene only if it was absolutely required.

" _Harry. I could give you your parents back. I could make you the most powerful wizard in the world. All you have to do is tell me what you want._ " The badger on the side of the cup twisted and warped, the thick neck slimming down and sticking out so that it looked more like a snake. A floating pair of crimson eyes locked onto Harry. " _Give me your desires, and I will give them back to you. In return, you need only keep me intact._ "

"I already have a mother who's taught me to be powerful," Harry said, and launched the Fiendfyre.

The cup shrieked as it burned. Harry watched with a pitiless expression, and as Narcissa had thought, the flames never even came close to getting out of control. When they writhed towards the edges of the wards, Harry brought them back with a lash of will that needed no corresponding movement from his wand.

They did not even scorch the table, and they faded the minute Harry jerked his head. Narcissa smiled as he turned towards her and held out her hand. Harry grabbed it and gently lifted her hand to kiss the back of it.

"And I have two sons," Narcissa said softly, "both very dear to me."

Harry proved that, hardened warrior or not, he could still blush.


	37. Narcissa Triumphant, Part Six

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Six—Laying Out_

"I want to talk to you, Professor Malfoy."

Moody growled the words in a way that was probably meant as a threat. Honestly, Narcissa had heard better threats from three-legged bees. (Breaking into that house with bee guardians had been an adventure). She turned around with a polite smile and an inclination of her head. "As you wish, Professor Moody."

Moody glared at the students in the corridor who had halted to stare at them and then jerked his head towards the nearest door, where his office was. "In there. Now."

Narcissa sighed at the rudeness, but moved in the direction he suggested. Moody slammed the door hard enough that the walls quivered, and stomped over to stand in front of her. Narcissa plotted ways to shove him off-balance and kept her face calm and neutral at the same time.

"You're encouraging my students to disrespect me."

"I'm concerned to hear that, Professor Moody. What has been happening?"

Moody's nostrils flared. He hadn't expected the courtesy, but then, few people expected a courteous assassin. "You've been telling them that my perspective on the war isn't true," he muttered finally.

"I thought of that as a fair exchange of opinions. I know that you have been telling the students that _our_ perspective on the war isn't true. I corrected those students who sought me out as to the factual inaccuracies."

" _Factual inaccuracies!_ Your husband was a bloody _Death Eater_!"

"Please don't swear at me, Professor Moody," Narcissa murmured with all the grace she could summon. She was taking mental notes so as to create an interesting document for the Ministry later. "As I said, we have a difference of opinion. When someone asks me about what I believe, I will answer. I am not deliberately lying or undermining you."

"You could tell the _truth._ "

"I am."

"You are not!"

Narcissa spread her fingers in a slight helpless gesture. "And here we've reached the point where we both sound five years old. Is this going to take much longer, Professor Moody? I have classes to prepare for."

The old man stared at her. Narcissa waited and calmly held his eyes. There were a number of things he could do now, and nearly every path they might take was to her advantage, not his.

Moody finally huffed and said, soft and low, "When your husband is called to fight for Voldemort again, then we'll find out who the students believe."

"It won't happen, but thank you for thinking of us," Narcissa said to him, with a small, regal nod, and walked towards the door.

The curse at her back was wordless, but Narcissa was only all the more prepared for it; the gathering magic in the air was enough to warn her, and the swish of his wand. Narcissa ducked neatly and came up leaning against one of the chairs in front of Moody's desk. The curse ate into the wall and dripped green, poisonous-looking acid down the stone.

"Well," Narcissa said softly. She could have said something else, _done_ something else, but Moody got away with as much as he did because of his reputation. When she destroyed that, it would be as effective as destroying someone else's body would be.

"Should have let me hit you with that. Should have let me put you out of your misery. Your sons might grow up into decent people if they didn't have you around and stayed away from their father."

Narcissa turned her head slowly and let her eyes meet Moody's. The man didn't have enough sense to pause. He snorted at her and stumped over to sit behind his desk, apparently forgetting her existence in favor of a stack of essays.

Narcissa left. The words were practically writing themselves in her head.

* * *

"And then he fired a _curse_ at you?"

"Yes, Acting Minister."

Rufus Scrimgeour stared at her as if waiting for the punchline. Of course, he was one of her allies because he was good at picking out nuances, and he knew more about what she was really like than some of these fools. He would expect lies and evasions and exaggerations that took advantage of some vulnerability Moody had showed.

But that was precisely the reason Narcissa had come to him with the truth and nothing but the truth. Even the Pensieve memories she could give and the documents of student opinions were only bare facts. She sat in front of Scrimgeour with her hands folded and her eyes down.

"I've never known Moody...why would you say he did it?"

"I can only speculate, Acting Minister. He didn't actually state his motives to me."

"Well, speculate then."

Narcissa looked up demurely. "Off the record, sir?"

Scrimgeour waved an irritable hand.

"He told me that my sons might be decent people if they grew up without me and stayed away from my husband. He was at least implying that he wanted to kill me and spare them growing up with me. He might have been joking, of course," Narcissa added softly.

Scrimgeour closed his eyes and sighed long and hard. "I suppose these deficiencies didn't show up when he was an Auror because he was surrounded by people who thought exactly like him," he muttered. "We're not exactly a broad-minded lot."

Narcissa widened her eyes and said nothing.

Scrimgeour looked hard at her. "You feel that he is a credible threat to your life?"

Narcissa lied for the first time since entering the Ministry. "I do, sir. I never thought he would use a curse like that. After seeing what the acid did to the stone, I can only shudder when I imagine what it could have done to me."

Scrimgeour nodded as if he'd expected her to say that. "Very well. Then I'm going to call Moody in and have a talk with him. He'll have to understand the different expectations in place if he's going to continue being a professor."

Narcissa, of course, knew that would not be enough. She wanted him destroyed. But she had already begun to walk that path. She nodded and stood. "Of course. I would also appreciate it if you enjoined him to remember that he is not fighting the war over again."

"Please explain what you mean by that, Professor Malfoy."

"Only that he spends large portions of his Defense classes telling stories to the students about the first war. A few of them have complained to me about it because they thought he was trying to turn them against my sons and perhaps other students who have acquitted Death Eater parents." Narcissa gave the apologetic smile of someone who hardly wanted to trouble the Acting Minister with such tales. "I hope that he can understand why this wouldn't be acceptable."

"I don't suppose you have documentation of those complaints?"

"I do, actually, Acting Minister. But not with me. Would you like me to send it to you by owl?"

Scrimgeour sighed. He obviously knew when he was beaten. "Of course, Professor Malfoy. I assume that it will include student names and dates? And that the students who gave you this information ware willing to testify to it in court?"

"It's as though you read my mind, Acting Minister."

Scrimgeour actually put his hand over his face for a minute. But he had known what she was when he allied with her. He sighed again and sat back. "Please send the documentation as soon as you can, Professor Malfoy. I'll want to speak with some of those students once I've spoken with Alastor, but I _know_ you'll have them ready and willing."

Narcissa smiled at him.

" _Please_ go back to Hogwarts."

* * *

"I want to do something permanent to him."

"I would ask that you at least wait until I have ruined his reputation within the Ministry," Narcissa murmured, not looking up from her marking. She did wonder how even first-years could mistake Mercury for Saturn.

"He tried to _kill you_ , Mother."

"And so did Voldemort, but he is still alive. I prefer the lingering revenge."

Draco huffed and threw himself on the couch in her quarters. Narcissa hid her smile the way she had with Scrimgeour as she carefully circled the wrong answer in red ink and wrote the correct one next to it. Her son had few fits of teenage dramatics, but perhaps it was reasonable for him to have one over this.

"Can Harry kill him?"

"I have promised myself the pleasure of taking his life. But Harry can help. And you can help if you want to."

Draco rolled over. "How? I don't have the training you gave Harry."

"I was thinking that you could help with ruining his reputation, the way you already have by controlling your reactions in his class and encouraging other students to talk to me about their problems with him. But if you want a more active role than that…"

"I do." Draco abruptly stood up and came over to stand in front of her desk. Narcissa looked up at him, wondering when her son had grown so tall. "Mother, first you almost died because you fought a _werewolf_ army, and then you almost died just because you were speaking to another professor in his office. I can't do anything about Voldemort or the werewolves right now. Let me do something about Moody."

Narcissa considered him. Draco's jaw was clenched in the way that always meant trouble when it was Lucius doing it. She nodded slowly.

"You can only help, however, Draco. You cannot take over completely. I have certain things that _I_ intend to do to Moody, and while I understand why you want to help, your help is welcomed to a limited extent right now."

"I understand," Draco said earnestly. "Helping is all I'll ask for." He hesitated, then leaned forwards and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Mother. You never—you'll never know just what I felt when I saw how magically exhausted you were the day after you fought off the werewolves. I never want to see you like that again. I want to be there to help you the way you were always there to help me."

Narcissa smiled. There were times, when Draco was five or six years old, that she had despaired of teaching him to love anyone but himself.

But Draco loved his family and would make sacrifices for them.

She had succeeded.

* * *

Moody glared at her the next day in a fashion that said Scrimgeour had indeed called him into his office. But of course, he took no warning from it. That afternoon, he tried to curse her in the back as she left lunch.

Narcissa sidestepped neatly, but this time, she raised a shield. They were out in the open, after all, and what would have happened if a curse had hit one of their _dear_ students?

"Professor Malfoy! I challenge you to a duel!"

Narcissa felt her eyebrows creep up. Well, this was unexpected. She considered Moody from head to foot, or at least from magical eye to wooden leg, and shook her head. "Are you sure this is something you want to do, Professor Moody?"

"You heard me, Professor Malfoy! Or are you frightened?"

"I wanted to spare your remaining relatives the cost of a funeral," Narcissa said, and turned away to consider where the best dueling arena would be. The Room of Requirement would have been ideal if she wanted to betray its secrets, but as it was, somewhere _outside_ the walls of the castle would suit her. She turned to open her mouth and make the suggestion to Moody.

Another curse was already heading towards her, one that shimmered with all the colors of the Called Conflagration that would cause a wildfire.

Narcissa slammed her shield into place again. As expected before a curse that strong, it held only a moment before breaking apart, but Narcissa had anticipated that. She was already triggering one of the small silver amulets that clung to a necklace around her throat, looking like beads on a larger piece.

The shield that sprang up and wrapped around the curse took the form of an enormous pair of silvery jaws. It ate the curse and rent it into small, brightly-colored motes. Narcissa touched the amulet again, and the magic ceased, although it had trapped the curse and could cast it back again at Moody if necessary.

" _Dark Arts_!" Moody roared, and pointed his wand.

" _Alastor Moody_!"

Minerva had an impressive voice when she wanted to, Narcissa thought, turning to look at the Headmistress. She was on her feet, both hands braced on the professors' table as she leaned forwards, and the look on her face could have frozen some of the assassins Narcissa had faced. Moody turned to stare at her, still clutching his wand.

"She used Dark Arts," Moody said, and Narcissa bit her lip to stop from laughing at how like a sulky adolescent he sounded.

"You are not to duel in a room with students in it," Minerva said. Her voice was still glacial. She walked slowly down from the table and towards them, every stride reminding Narcissa of how the Dark Lord would have _liked_ to look. "What did I see but you throwing a curse at Professor Malfoy's unprotected back? And when she used defensive magic meant to stop it from hitting the students, you accused her."

"She has been making unfounded accusations about me!"

"At the moment, I can think of several _founded_ ones she could make!" Minerva shouted at him, and that finally seemed to stun Moody into realizing that she wasn't on his side. He staggered back a step, then started to scowl again, but apparently had the good sense to keep his wand lowered, for which Narcissa was a little sorry.

Minerva took a deep breath and went on. "There are paths that you could follow to combat unfounded accusations, Alastor. Trying to curse Professor Malfoy in the back is _none_ of them."

"You don't understand about this woman and the Dark Arts she uses!" Moody apparently had decided that he might as well go down with all banners flying. He pointed a finger at Narcissa, who looked at it politely. "You don't understand how _evil_ she is and can be! What she can do when fighting off a werewolf army—"

"How does that give you license to curse her in the back outside a standard dueling ring, Alastor?"

"You put down rabid dogs! You don't let them bite you!"

Narcissa caught a glimpse of Draco, his eyes glittering with arctic fury, and judged that Moody had just made a mistake that was going to cost him more than he could ever guess. She shook her head and sighed a little.

"That is _enough_ , Alastor," Minerva said. She looked a little tight-lipped herself, but that was enough like her normal expression that Narcissa wasn't sure that it was related. "You have made your complaints. They have been heard. You have also issued a formal challenge that I am not sure I heard accepted or refuted." She looked at Narcissa. "Do you agree to duel Professor Moody, Professor Malfoy?"

"I had thought I would accept," said Narcissa, holding the man's eyes. "But I have now been witness to three curses cast outside the confines of the dueling ring. I am not sure that I trust Professor Moody to follow the rules."

"Three? I only saw two now."

"There was an incident a few days ago when Professor Moody tried to curse me when I was in his office. In the back, once again. It does seem to be his preferred target. I find myself wondering if his reputation for being a skilled fighter is exaggerated."

Moody swung his wand up. This time, though, Minerva was quicker. " _Expelliarmus_!"

Moody's wand soared into her hand. Moody turned a betrayed glance on her. Minerva didn't yield a hairsbreadth. "Professor Malfoy's question is fair. You keep trying to break the rules of honorable conduct, Professor Moody. Will you hold by them if you duel her?"

Moody said nothing, but bared his teeth. Narcissa tilted her head. It seemed that she had misestimated Moody. Yes, the destruction of his reputation was still the thing that would hurt him most, but he had almost lost his mind the minute it began. Even a mild scolding from Scrimgeour—and Narcissa knew it would have been mild, with an Auror of Moody's acknowledged prowess—had made him leap over the edge.

"I do not trust him, I am afraid," Narcissa said, and made a little helpless motion with one hand, delighting in the way that Moody's eyes brightened with contained rage. "Even the way he looks at me now is the way that, yes, one would look at a rabid dog."

"I am going to kill you." Moody didn't seem to be aware of their audience, the students who were shrinking back from him and Minerva taking a step forwards. His attention was focused entirely on her. "For what you did to the world, for the practice of Dark Arts, for shielding your Death Eater husband and corrupting the Boy-Who-Lived. I am going to _ruin_ you."

Narcissa sighed a little and glanced at Minerva. "You see what I have been dealing with?"

"You have my word that Professor Moody will be leaving tomorrow," said Minerva, and her face really was white now. "I had no idea—I am sorry, Professor Malfoy. It was never my intention to frighten you."

Narcissa had never had to resist laughter with such tenacity. She only nodded, with a slow, funeral motion, and walked into the corridor with the same slowness.

She knew Moody would probably have tried to curse her again if he had had his wand. She would have been ready for him, but this was more satisfying. The slow tearing apart of his heroic image, and his influence over the students he had tried so hard to turn against her, Draco, and Harry…

It was so sweet that Narcissa wondered if she should have engineered it so fast. This much sugar was probably bad for her.


	38. Ripping Apart

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Seven—Ripping Apart_

"I know this is all your fault."

Narcissa smiled faintly to herself. She wasn't actually in the room with Moody at the moment. He was stomping around his office muttering to himself as he packed. But it was simplicity itself for her to send her consciousness through some of the runes that she had broken into his office to carve on the walls the other day.

She hadn't been about to let someone take her by surprise again, after his curse in the back truly had.

"This is ridiculous." Moody waved his wand, and books slammed into his trunk hard enough to make it jump on the floor. "The school is going to the dogs. Dark magic! Dark magic tolerated and embraced by the Headmistress! Albus never would have..."

His voice trailed off, but Narcissa remained, listening, as she watched him gather up and stuff his robes in with a packing charm, and then do the same with some of his Foe-Glasses and other instruments for detecting enemies. She didn't know if Moody would have been close enough to Dumbledore to know his suspicions about Horcruxes. But she wanted to know if he had.

Moody finally stood back and scowled at everything in his rooms, then grunted and picked up a delicate object from the table next to him. Narcissa squinted. It looked like nothing so much as a stirring rod stuck into the middle of a small crystal ball. But the crystal ball itself had whirling flakes of gold and blue and white in it. Moody stood holding it and appeared to think.

Then he nodded, and a grim smile crossed his mouth. "I can at least make it harder for them," he whispered, and slipped the crystal ball into his pocket.

When he moved to walk towards the door, Narcissa withdrew her consciousness from the runes and opened her eyes in her own office. Then she stood and drew her own wand, casting her grizzly bear Patronus by focusing on the memory of the first smile Draco had given her as a baby.

"Find my sons," she instructed the bear as it materialized next to her and tilted its head back in inquiry. "Tell them to come to my quarters at once."

The bear nodded and shuffled out through the wall. Narcissa stepped back and closed her eyes for a moment, softly breathing through her nose. There was enough time for her to prevent Moody from doing anything to her sons. She would hang onto that. She would not speculate on what the small device might be, because she had no way of knowing. She wanted her sons with her to face it when it came, however.

Harry was the first to reach her quarters, slipping in through the door like a shadow. After a glance at her face, he sat down to sharpen his knives. Narcissa smiled. Harry still had the obsessive curiosity he'd exhibited as a child, but he was better about waiting to fulfill it.

"Mother, what is it?" Draco held the door open with one hand, his head tilted a little with the curiosity that Harry had waited to express shining in his eyes. "Only Moody is leaving, and I was going to make sure he actually did leave Hogwarts."

"I saw him with a weapon, or at least something that might be a weapon," Narcissa answered briefly, standing. "I want you to remain at my side while _I_ make sure he is escorted out of the castle.'

Draco blinked, nodded, and fell into line behind her. Harry stood up and tucked the sharpened knives in his belt. "What did the weapon look like?" he asked quietly.

"A small crystal ball with a stirring rod positioned as rising out of it at an angle." Narcissa nodded when Harry blinked at her. "Yes, I don't know what it is, either, and I want to find out."

"Yes, Mother."

Her sons stayed close behind as Narcissa walked with swift steps down the main staircase towards the entrance hall. It seemed that she, Harry, and Draco weren't the only ones who wanted to make sure Moody actually left. A small group of Hufflepuffs, Susan Bones prominent among them, were standing at the top of the steps down to their common room, and some Slytherins whose parents had fought alongside Lucius lingered near the doors.

Moody stumped into view and paused as he saw them, staring with narrowed eyes. Still, Narcissa believed that he might have walked out the doors and gone about his newly- circumscribed life if his attention hadn't landed on Narcissa.

" _You._ " His lips pulled back from his teeth like a rabid dog, but he didn't immediately move towards her. And Narcissa had never seen a rabid dog so alive with hatred. "You'll pay for this."

"I believe that I already have, with threats against me," Narcissa said in a bored tone. She didn't know if it was possible to incite Moody to destroy himself more than he already was, but the way she stood, with her hands tucked in her sleeves and her fingers not far from her wand, would serve her either way. "Leave now, Professor Moody. I look forward to not having to call you by that title."

"You'll pay."

"Your monologue is boring compared to some I've heard from Dark wizards, I will have you know."

Moody said nothing, standing still in a way that Narcissa recognized as being bound by rage so deep it was painful. Narcissa raised her own brows and began to turn away.

" _You admitted that you know Dark wizards!"_ Moody bellowed, and Narcissa whipped back around in time to see him take out the crystal ball pierced by the stirring rod, as it still looked like, and heave the thing at her.

Narcissa didn't want it to fall or hit her, and she didn't want it to endanger her students crowded into the entrance hall, either. She whipped her wand and conjured a flexible net, which stretched in front of her, caught the weapon, wrapped around it, and bowled it softly to the floor, all in less time than it had taken Moody to toss it at her in the first place.

Moody returned to his gaping.

"I don't know exactly what the thing was," Narcissa said, lowering her wand so it pointed safely downwards. The whole point was to show that she was distant from Moody and not threatening him in return. "But I assume you meant it to hit me? Which makes it a threat. Tsk, tsk, Professor Moody. Apparently you find it hard to learn."

" _Alastor,"_ said a voice that hissed around and between the stairs, and Minerva strode out of the Great Hall to face him.

Moody looked at her, and his voice was uncertain when he spoke, as if he had finally begun to realize something other than his hatred of Narcissa. "She admitted to knowing Dark wizards."

"Having heard them speak is hardly knowing them." Minerva turned her wand in a circle, and three cat Patronuses sprang into being next to her, all of their glowing eyes fixed on Moody. "You have proven yourself a threat to enough people enough times in this school, Alastor Moody. Leave, or you will be escorted out."

"Have you thought to ask her _why_ she's heard them speak?"

" _Leave,_ " Minerva said, voice on the edge of a yowl, and the Patronuses yowled with her and spread out, stalking Moody from three sides of a square.

Moody huffed and went out. Narcissa tilted her head and watched him go, delicately enjoying the frustrated glare he gave over his shoulder.

"In the meantime, Professor Malfoy," Minerva went on, and Narcissa turned back to see her holding her hand out, "I'll take that weapon that Alastor was foolish enough to hurl at you."

"Let me simply free it from the net," said Narcissa equably. While she would have liked to keep it and examine it for herself, she did trust Minerva to share any pertinent information she found. And there was a chance that it had been enspelled to react badly to examination. Narcissa would certainly do that if _she_ lost her mind enough to throw crystal weapons at people in public.

Or to create a weapon out of crystal and glass in the first place, Narcissa admitted, as she floated the net over to Minerva's waiting grasp, a piece of silk instead of her bare hands. She really couldn't tell what the damn thing was made of. It glowed and seemed more fragile than ever, glistening like a raindrop, as Minerva wrapped it up.

"Mother?"

Narcissa glanced over her shoulder, and found Draco reaching towards her with a stunned look on his face. Harry shouted at the same time, and Narcissa wondered why he seemed to be screaming for her. She was right here.

Or so she had been. Until she abruptly thinned and the light in the entrance hall dimmed, and she found her essence sucked into the crystal weapon Minerva was holding.

* * *

Narcissa looked around at the faceted crystal, and the distorted reflections of gigantic faces bending down from above, and sighed.

"This is getting entirely too common," she murmured, before she turned around and snapped out her hand. Her wand flew into it. Narcissa nodded. She had heard of traps like this, invented by wizards with too much time on their hands. Movement and gestures inside the glass were merely an effort of will.

Well, Narcissa was tired of enemies who attempted to keep her from doing what she wanted to do and pin her down in impossible situations. Moody was more annoying even than Voldemort, who was at least currently starving to death somewhere Narcissa couldn't see him.

Hands pounded on the glass. Narcissa glanced up and determined that they seemed to belong to Draco. She frowned and shook her head, although she might be too tiny for them to see the gesture. What had she _taught_ her sons? Calm and grace under pressure.

Although, admittedly, seeing their mother sucked into a crystal ball that had mated with a stirring rod might be too much pressure for the moment.

Narcissa cast a _Lumos_ , and was pleased to see that her magic at least responded in a normal fashion. She walked slowly around the globe, tilting her head back and forth so she could see in all directions. It appeared to be mostly facets, the cool slant of the stirring rod, and here and there a glint of the magic that was probably keeping her imprisoned.

No, wait. The glints were in the air itself, not the crystal. Narcissa leaned closer, and a second later nodded in satisfaction. Yes, the glints were the ones she had seen in the crystal when Moody was examining it in his quarters. They hadn't disappeared, as Narcissa had assumed they had, when he'd thrown it at her.

That meant the crystal wasn't a single flawless prison, and _that_ meant Narcissa had a means to break it apart from the inside. Single constructions, whether of crystal, glass, or stone, were always harder to crack than those that had a join or seam.

Narcissa closed her eyes to shut out the sight of the gigantic faces from above and the pounding hands, and instead channeled her magic through her wand. In a few seconds, light was blazing from her wand tip.

She thought she heard a distorted voice asking what she was doing, but she ignored it for now. They couldn't help her from the outside, anyway, at least not if Moody's trap was constructed anything like the ones she was more familiar with.

When Narcissa opened her eyes again, the sparks were hovering near her wand tip, drawn by the magic. Narcissa released the spell, and watched how the magic dissipated into them, rather than striking anything or making a difference.

Narcissa smiled. The prison functioned the way she thought it did, then. The sparks were supposed to ensure the trap held by absorbing any magic that was cast inside it. So Narcissa could cast any spell, and it would only make her prison grow stronger and smoother.

At least, that was the way it was _supposed_ to work.

Narcissa spent a moment breathing carefully, and letting any thought of Moody or her sons slide off her own mental defenses, because they would only get in the way of what she was trying to do. Then she reared back a little, wand in her hand, and cast as much magic as she could through it, all at once, an unfocused blast of power.

At the same moment, she shifted into her Animagus form.

The world around her blurred and shook, as if someone was tossing the crystal from hand to hand. Narcissa calmly held on in the middle of it. This was exactly what the theory said should happen, and she was not going to panic.

The sparkles danced around her, trying to absorb the magic—

And failing. Then they clustered together, and Narcissa, her eyes narrowed so that she could barely see out of them, on purpose, saw bright cracks racing across them. It reminded her of one of Harry's memories of the Muggle telly that she had seen.

The world around her shattered with a roar. Narcissa spilled to the floor, changing to human as she moved. If someone asked her about a possible bear form later, she would explain that she had manifested her thoughts as well as her magic inside the prison, and it might have made her _appear_ as a bear for a few moments.

As she stood back up, accepting Draco's embrace from the front and Harry's from the side, she briefly caught Minerva's eye. Here might be someone who would not believe the tale of a bear thought-form. But Narcissa only smiled at her blandly and moved on, one arm around each of her sons.

"How did you _do_ that?" Susan Bones was staring at her in wonder, which Narcissa had to admit was flattering. Hannah Abbott, hovering behind her, stared, too, but looked away with a scowl when Narcissa caught her eye.

"The crystal was meant to contain Dark Arts, but the spells I cast to escape were not Dark, and neither am I purely a Dark witch," Narcissa explained with a small shake of her hair that let it down around her. She let go of Harry long enough to comb her fingers through some tangles in it. "The prison couldn't contain someone who doesn't have a corrupted core."

"So Moody underestimated you," Minerva said, holding Narcissa's gaze. Narcissa gazed back in unconcern. Minerva would not be so foolish as to try to make her register as an Animagus or the like. They had an understanding.

"Yes. And intended to trap and assault me. I think," Narcissa added musingly, "that I do want him arrested."

"I'll contact the Aurors at once." Minerva turned as if she was going to sweep away, then paused and looked over her shoulder. "Could you come with me, Professor Malfoy? Your perspective and personal report will be necessary for the Aurors, of course."

Narcissa smiled a little, hugged Draco one more time, and then gently put both her sons aside so she could climb up the stairs behind Minerva. "Of course, Headmistress."

Minerva kept as sharp an eye out for students as Narcissa did, which meant they were swiftly out of sight of them and nearly to her office. Minerva gave her a measured glance then. "Did I see what I thought I saw?"

"I'm sorry, Headmistress, but I'm unable to answer that. I would _never_ use my Legilimency without permission."

Minerva's mouth twitched hard, but she kept her expression placid as she nodded. "Then you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, perhaps if you phrased it more clearly, Headmistress? I admit my head is ringing with the effort of breaking out of that prison."

Minerva's eyes narrowed in true uncertainty, which was just the way Narcissa liked it. Then they were riding the moving staircase up behind the gargoyle, and Minerva said, with a deep sigh, "You're an unregistered grizzly Animagus."

"That is perhaps something people would say about me."

Minerva opened her office door and sat down more smoothly behind her desk than Narcissa would have thought possible. Her hands folded on top of the desk and she gave Narcissa a long, long look. "If I tried to fight you about this or insist that you register…"

"It would be unfortunate." Narcissa kept her face grave and her eyes direct. "It might violate that understanding that I was sure we had between us."

"I know it would." Minerva drummed her fingers on the desk for a moment. "It is only that it looks bad if you are performing something illegal while also asking that Alastor be arrested."

"No matter what I might do in my personal life, what he did is still illegal," Narcissa pointed out peaceably. "And the crime that you are implying I have committed is victimless except perhaps for the person it involves, if they become trapped in the process. I assure you that I am not trapped."

"And if I pressed…"

"It would be unfortunate."

After a moment, Minerva gave a short nod, and then turned to throw Floo powder into the fire. "Minister for Magic's office!"

Narcissa smiled at her back. Yes, she was glad they would preserve their excellent understanding.


	39. Narcissa's Tactics

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Eight—Narcissa's Tactics_

"Somehow I find myself continually dealing with you," Scrimgeour told Narcissa as she settled into the chair across from his desk.

"Well, your retired Aurors do continue to trouble me," Narcissa murmured, lowering her eyes and focusing them on her hands as she smoothed down her robes over her knees. "There would be no reason for me to appear here if not for Auror Moody."

And that was nearly the truth. Narcissa's activities to take down the Ministry didn't require her presence in Scrimgeour's office, after all.

"He's not my Auror," Scrimgeour began, then sighed and stopped speaking. "Well. At least I counseled that he should retire long past the point where he was retained by Fudge and Bagnold. And at least I told Minerva that she should find some other Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Now, she will have to," Narcissa said. She did in fact have a solution in mind for Minerva's problem, but she wasn't about to offer it unless Minerva approached her. The Headmistress had had enough strains to the excellent understanding between them lately.

"True enough." Scrimgeour folded his hands in front of him. "I heard you speak of suing the whole Ministry, or at least the whole Auror Department. I would counsel you against that, Professor Malfoy. It wasn't us either giving Moody the authority to teach at Hogwarts or the authority to get away with actions against you, after all."

"It was the power structure behind him that made him think he could get away with it for as long as he did." Narcissa raised her eyes from her knees, and rejoiced in the way Scrimgeour flinched back from her. "I am told that even the Aurors who came to arrest him moved reluctantly."

"Professor Malfoy—"

"And his prejudices towards the Dark Arts and Dark wizards are shared by plenty of other Aurors," Narcissa went on relentlessly.

"Professor Malfoy—"

"I do not feel safe at Hogwarts without some kind of guarantee that Aurors who try something like this will suffer in the future," Narcissa said, and cast her eyes down again and clasped her hands tighter until the knuckles turned white.

Scrimgeour sighed like Draco did when Narcissa had forbidden him to have purely sweets for breakfast as a child. "Professor Malfoy, I'll do what I can, but you have to know that I can't upend the whole power structure of the Aurors overnight."

"If it's serious enough, then you could." Narcissa raised her eyes and assumed an angelic expression. "You would do it if the public safety was in danger, wouldn't you?"

"There is no indication of that, though, since Moody has been arrested and hasn't been working as a public Auror for years in any case." Scrimgeour had leaned back in his chair and laid his hand on the tip of his wand projecting beyond his sleeve.

"Then I suppose I must concede to an argument my husband made that I was reluctant to pay attention to," Narcissa said, and smoothed down her robes again.

"What argument is that, Professor Malfoy?"

Scrimgeour already looked as though he knew he would regret asking. Narcissa smiled at him. "Why, that the Ministry is prejudiced against Dark wizards in much the same way that Moody is and encourages those prejudices instead of fighting against them as they should."

The Minister flushed. "Professor Malfoy—"

"After all," Narcissa continued thoughtfully, "you would be speaking reassurances to anyone involved if Moody had targeted a Light witch, or if his rhetoric could be interpreted that way. You apologize immediately whenever any Ministry official says something that could be interpreted as supporting the Dark. And usually, you sack that person. Why are you not interested in doing more about Moody, I wonder?"

"He's been _arrested_. What more do you want?"

"The public apology, so that I might reassure my family and certain students that we are treated as equal to Light wizards, would be appropriate."

Scrimgeour appeared to be wrestling with himself. Narcissa waited. The man was, politically, no fool. He couldn't foresee all the consequences that Narcissa had spent months planning for and laying the groundwork for, but he could at least understand that the Wizengamot wouldn't like him doing this. Some people would hold him as weak for it.

But Narcissa was in his office, and they weren't.

"Fine," Scrimgeour conceded through his teeth. "Would you also like us to revise the arrests that Moody made when he was an Auror and see if any of them were motivated by his paranoia instead of—truth?"

That was something Narcissa had _not_ foreseen, and she bit her lip to avoid laughing. She looked down with some more mock demureness. "That would, of course, be nice, Minister. And politic, I think."

"Not as politic as you think, Professor Malfoy. You're stirring up resentment if you do this that could easily be used against you. I'm not saying this as a threat. I'm just begging you to understand."

Narcissa just smiled at him. In truth, the resentment would congeal and turn against Scrimgeour, for being the one who was wasting Wizengamot time—as they would see it—with this investigation when Moody had already been arrested. And if he couldn't see that, why, he was not as foresighted as an ally of the Malfoys needed to be.

Scrimgeour finally sighed and turned around to scratch out a few words on a parchment sitting to the side of his desk. "I hope you know what you're doing, Professor. And that your political instincts are as good as some people told me they were," he added in a mutter that Narcissa probably wasn't supposed to hear.

 _How sad for him that I did,_ Narcissa thought idly as she stood up and nodded to him. "Trust me, Minister, in matters such as these, they are very nearly flawless."

Scrimgeour gave her a gloomy look. He must not think "nearly flawless" was enough. Narcissa patted his cheek and swept out of the room.

She wouldn't claim perfection, because no one could. She had had to slit her throat in the last month to destroy a werewolf army, which alone deprived her of that appellation.

But as long as the burdens of her mistakes fell on others, then she thought she might claim the "nearly."

* * *

"I'm dubious about this," Minerva said, but she was muttering the words in a low voice as they stood by the fireplace in her office, waiting.

Narcissa smiled at the mantel and said nothing. In truth, she knew that Minerva would have liked nothing better than to hire some other Auror from the Ministry to be the Defense teacher. But the students themselves had led the protests at the notion, because the Ministry had wanted to send someone who had retired, the way Moody had, and the students evidently wouldn't feel safe with someone like that

"What if he turned out the way Moody did?" Susan Bones had demanded, her eyes bright with a righteous fire Narcissa enjoyed seeing from the outside. She would never feel it herself, but she could admire it from a distance.

So Minerva had been forced to accept Narcissa's suggestion of a replacement for Moody, and now they were waiting.

The fire turned green then, and Narcissa spun towards it. For once, she wasn't inclined to hide the happiness that flooded her. She needed to see him, wanted to welcome him, and was in the perfect place to step forwards and take hold of Lucius's hands as he came out of the fire.

"Husband," she said, and tipped her head in so that she could lay her lips against his. Lucius's hand tightened for a moment in her hair. Narcissa stepped back so that he could release the hold naturally, and turned him around with a hand on his arm. "Of course you know Headmistress Minerva McGonagall."

"Mr. Malfoy." Minerva looked as if she wished she was in cat form at the moment, so she could lash her tail. "I can't be as pleased to welcome you to your post as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as your wife is. I trust that you understand."

"Perfectly, Headmistress," said Lucius. Not even the ghost of a smile crossed his face. "You needed someone who had knowledge of the Dark Arts and the school's procedures and could protect children. I can certainly do that."

" _Protect_ them?"

Lucius met the gaze with a calm that would have been impossible for him when he still bore the Dark Mark. Narcissa knew much more, now, about how it warped the mind and personality of the person who carried it. "I know that my record from the last war is not impeccable. But I have never harmed a child."

"Teenagers," Minerva said between her teeth. Narcissa was impressed she managed the words. "Some of the people you fought and _killed_ were teenagers."

"Still, of age. Seventeen." Lucius remained calmly alert, as if he was waiting for Minerva to say something specific he could object to. But she turned around and yanked the contract Lucius would sign off the desk with such force that several pages of it flew out of order.

"Allow me," Narcissa murmured. She waved her wand, and the pages of the contract flew back into the correct order. Minerva gave her a narrow, suspicious glance. She probably wanted to know where Narcissa had got the spell, which wasn't commonly taught at Hogwarts.

Narcissa smiled and admitted nothing.

"Your contract, Mr. Malfoy." Minerva sighed under her breath as she watched Lucius sign. "It will be somewhat confusing at first to have two 'Professor Malfoys' to refer to, but we've dealt with married couples who shared the same surname before. We'll get used to it."

There was nothing to be said to that, a mere minor complaint from a defeated arguer, so Narcissa smiled again and swept Lucius out of the office. He walked next to her with a quiet smile on his face, which changed to a broader one as they emerged from behind the gargoyle and into a corridor of the school proper.

"It seems like forever since I've been here," he said softly, as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling and ignored the students passing them who stared a little. "I can't believe that I never visited the school in my capacity as a governor more than once or twice. What was I thinking?"

"Nothing good," Narcissa said, and tucked her hand under his elbow. "You weren't always thinking clearly."

Lucius nodded. He had told her that trying to revisit some of the decisions he had made under the Dark Mark had been like recalling decisions made in a dream. "Well, that's been cleared up now, thanks to my darling wife."

"Indeed." Narcissa nodded to Susan Bones, who was giving them a faintly horrified glance, and swept past towards the stairs that led to the Defense classroom. "I'll show you the place where Moody taught, although I'm unsure if you'll want to use it."

"Yes, he may have placed some traps there." Lucius aimed his wand at the doorway as they arrived, and blew out his breath as several white sparks lit up around it and in the walls. "Didn't he care that there would be _children_ coming here?" he muttered.

"No, unfortunately." Narcissa stood back and watched him disarm the traps with wide flexes of his wrist. "He probably thought that the pure of heart and mind wouldn't be hurt. There are some Light spells like that."

"Only if the 'pure of heart and mind' matches the picture in the mind of the caster."

"That, too."

Lucius had disarmed at least five traps before the first student came up the stairs. It was Pansy Parkinson, who stared slightly with her mouth open. Then she swallowed and said, "Mr. Malfoy is going to be our new Defense teacher, Professor Malfoy?"

"Yes." Narcissa nodded slightly to the girl. She hadn't joined in some of the nonsense the Slytherins had had about declaring for Voldemort in the face of all common sense. On the other hand, neither had she done anything that would show she was indisputably on Draco's, or Harry's, side. "I told the Minister that I wanted to feel safe from purely Light wizards in the castle, and of course other students objected when they offered to send a second retired Auror."

Parkinson's shoulders began to shake in near-silence. Then she said, "I look forward to your classes, sir."

"Likewise to you as a student, Miss Parkinson," Lucius said, and shot a glance at Narcissa as Parkinson went down the stairs again. "That many students managed the scores to be in NEWT Defense?"

"They had to switch to self-study in many cases, but yes." Narcissa shrugged a little. "And Idunna, who taught last year, lowered her requirements to an Acceptable because she wanted to teach as many of them as possible."

Lucius grunted a little and banished something that made a noise like a firework as it disappeared. "I can't promise that all of them will pass the NEWT, especially with a mid-year change like this."

"Lucius." Narcissa leaned on his shoulder and waited until he looked at her. Then she let her hand stray along his jaw and watched his eyes dilate a bit. _Some_ things hadn't changed with the removal of the Dark Mark, no matter what else had. "I do want more of our students to do well on the NEWT exams, but that's not the main reason you're here."

He nodded after a second and kissed her palm. "Thank you for reminding me of what is important, my love."

Narcissa stepped back with a smile. "A service I would offer more often if more people asked me for it."

* * *

"Having our father as a professor is bloody _weird._ "

"Stranger than having your mother as one?" Narcissa looked up with a faint smile as Harry hurled himself into the chair across from her. He was holding the Defense book that Lucius had ordered for the class and staring at it with a baffled expression.

"Yes, actually! You've been here a few years! I've got bloody _used_ to you!" Harry waved the book around. "He had us read the first chapter, and then he went through and discussed everything the chapter left out and why we shouldn't always trust experts! Even though _he's_ an expert! And one of the people he quoted was a Light wizard!"

"Your father has always wanted to be someone who appreciated wisdom no matter where it was found."

Harry squinted at her. " _Wanted_ to be, you said."

Narcissa sighed with a slight movement of her hands. "Well, it is true that in recent years, he could not always fulfill that ambition. But now that he has the chance, he has returned to it with a vengeance. Is it at least better than the classes where Moody sat around telling you his war stories?"

"Yes." Harry looked as if he was trying to suppress the smile that crept up his face next, but he didn't manage it. "And you should see the expressions of the people I think expected him to just quote Dark wizards. It's funny."

Narcissa nodded. "I imagine it would be. Simply keep your eyes on your goals, however. You know that your father will teach you as well as he can, but the lessons that you use in the future will probably be mine."

"You've taken my place as far as killing Voldemort goes, haven't you?"

"I suspect the prophecy only said that it had to be you in the first place because of the Horcrux within you." Narcissa somewhat mourned the fact that she had burned Dumbledore to death in phoenix fire. She would have given him a much slower death if she had known at the time what a Horcrux was and that he was aware of the one in Harry's scar. "Now that that is gone, anyone could kill him who knows about the Horcruxes and how to deprive him of them."

"What are we going to do next, Mother?"

"You are going to concentrate on giving Draco every happiness, defending yourself if someone attacks you, and getting excellent marks on your NEWT exams."

"I meant what _you're_ going to do next about him, Mother."

Narcissa smiled indulgently at Harry. "I know that you did. And I also know that you don't need to worry about that, which means I can keep my plans to myself so that you don't."

Harry blinked. "You think I would get in the way if you told me what you plan to do?"

"No. As I said, my aim is preventing your mental distress."

"Worrying about this will _give_ me some mental distress, Mother."

"I plan to destroy his remaining Horcrux and starve him to death. Then we can live happily ever after."

"And the Ministry?" Harry cocked his head as he looked at her, his brow slightly furrowed.

"I will destroy it and replace it with something better."

Harry thought about it, then shrugged. "Well, okay. As long as I know."


	40. Triumph and Tragedy

Thank you again for all the reviews!

 _Chapter Nine—Triumph and Tragedy_

"There have to be _some_ commonalities among the Horcruxes that would make them easier to search for."

Narcissa caressed the welt on the corner of Lucius's shoulder and sighed a little. "Yes, well, that might have been easier before they were moved from their original places. The diadem was in Hogwarts, and that was probably where it always was. But we don't know where the cup rested before he gave it to Bellatrix, and Nagini was living and could accompany him…"

"We know that it's probably a Founder's artifact."

Narcissa shook her head. "Everything I can find is either destroyed, clean, or accounted for."

"Then perhaps it is something widely thought to be lost, the way Ravenclaw's diadem was?"

Narcissa lay back, letting her hair coil around her husband's throat. Lucius shook in remembered pleasure. Narcissa smiled, but directed her smile at the ceiling more than him. "I still have no idea what it could be. Hundreds of authors have speculated on what the Founders left behind and have much power those objects have, but all of them concentrate on the same small group of them. And I don't think books exist on the Founders' artifacts that I haven't read."

"Hmm." Lucius was silent for a moment. "What about artifacts that have a connection to _his_ past?"

"That is a thought," Narcissa said. "Of course, most of them, like the diadem, don't, but the diary did. Thank you, husband. You have given me something to look into." She rolled over and met his eyes. "And you can ask anything you want from me as a reward."

"Please," Lucius whispered.

Narcissa smiled and stood from the bed, beckoning him to kneel at her feet.

* * *

Narcissa nodded to the Wizengamot members who turned to look at her as she strode into the courtroom. She had learned to look natural in all kinds of settings, even ones like this, where she wore rich purple robes and had her hair gleaming almost white as it fell around her ears in artificial locks and ringlets. She took a seat in the small polished wooden gallery for visitors and waited.

Scrimgeour gave her a sour grimace before he stood up in front of the assembled Wizengamot members. Narcissa would have shaken her head if that was in the plans. The man just made himself look weaker and weaker, as if it was Narcissa's idea and not his that she was here.

Which it was, but he shouldn't advertise it. Truly, the man was too honest to survive as Minister.

"Thank you for assembling at the last minute, honored Wizengamot." Unlike most of the Ministers Narcissa had watched, Scrimgeour wanted to stand on his own two legs on the floor instead of sitting in the gallery himself and drawing attention that way. "We are investigating the arrests made by former Auror Alaster Moody—"

"I still don't understand _why_ ," interrupted an older witch in acid-green robes with a curled ear trumpet that reminded Narcissa of a sick unicorn's horn. That trumpet was effective in identifying her: Hebe Jackson, one of the few half-blood members. "What did he ever do that was so wrong?"

"Used Dark magic within Hogwarts," said Griselda Marchbanks, with a wave of a hand that had iron rings on it. "I understand that perfectly. But do we have to revise _all_ the arrests he made, Rufus?"

Scrimgeour gave another too-honest grimace again. "I'm afraid so. It seems that he took the license to use Dark Arts granted to Aurors during the war with You-Know-Who far more liberally than I ever thought he did."

"But _how_?" Marchbanks was rocking back and forth in her seat, her foot tapping. Narcissa listened to the tapping and shook her head. From the sound, Marchbanks was wearing slippers. How standards had declined in the Wizengamot since Cousin Orion's day. " _How_ did he use it?"

"He used a Dark magic artifact to imprison a fellow professor of Hogwarts. It might have trapped her forever if she hadn't known how to fight her way out of it."

"This is the incident with the Malfoy woman?" Jackson waited until Scrimgeour nodded. "Well, maybe we would be better _off_ if she'd remained trapped."

Narcissa sighed. She hoped that she wouldn't be forced to remind them she was here. She would prefer to startle them with that later, when the collapse of the Ministry was progressing.

"How can you say that, Hebe?" cried out Holland Bulstrode, who had hired Narcissa years ago to get rid of an inconvenient secret. It remained the only half-Kneazle assassination Narcissa had ever performed. "Mrs. Malfoy didn't deserve to be trapped like that!"

And they were off, wrangling back and forth over old grudges, mostly. Narcissa shook her head again. No wonder wizarding Britain's government was so inefficient. They couldn't keep their minds on a topic from one moment to the next.

Scrimgeour was the one who brought back some sense of decorum, casting the Firework Charm that made a harmless gout of noise and light rise from the floor. Narcissa had used that charm when Draco was three and not yet ready for the real thing. "If you could _concentrate,_ ladies and gentlemen," Scrimgeour said grimly as the Wizengamot members retook their seats and gave him stares of baffled offense. "We are here to talk about Auror Moody."

" _Former_ Auror Moody. I can't believe that he's even the Ministry's problem anymore!"

Narcissa smiled. She had been waiting for something like that, and the small brooch hanging on her necklace would finally have good material for the Recording Charm.

It was even better material than Narcissa had expected, and she departed the Wizengamot session with a bright smile on her face. Strike two would come tomorrow.

* * *

Narcissa leaned back in her seat and nodded slowly. It seemed that "Marvolo" was the key that would unlock what she was looking for. That had been the diary spirit's middle name, and it was not as common a wizarding name as Narcissa had first feared it might be. In fact, the only pure-bloods who had used it in recent history were the Gaunts, who had a habit of naming their children things that began with M.

And she only had to investigate more thoroughly where the Gaunts had lived. It seemed that they had lost their manor centuries ago, about the time they began practicing incest and all the other pure-blood families had stopped speaking to them. (Even the Blacks, somewhat to Narcissa's surprise, but then she had learned that the Gaunts had practiced _sibling_ marriage. That was a line too far. The Blacks considered cousin marriage the height of good taste in public. You should only fuck your brother or sister under the sheets at night, with the lights off).

"Mother! Mother!"

Narcissa flowed smoothly to her feet, wand in her hand and various weapons she had installed in the corners of her quarters vibrated in violence. They would be needed when one of her children burst in shouting in that tone.

But then she realized it was Harry, and there was laughter behind his voice, and he had no weapons drawn. Narcissa sat down and smiled back at him. "What is it?"

"Did _you_ do this?" Harry asked, and handed her what looked like an absurdly thick sheaf of paper. When she took it, Narcissa realized that the _Daily Prophet_ had published a special edition, the biggest one she had ever seen.

 _Well, of course, they needed extra paper to hold all that news,_ she thought half-complacently, and turned to the front page.

 _RUFUS SCRIMGEOUR: PROPONENT OF THREESOMES?_

Narcissa sniffed. They had chosen to lead with the _least_ interesting blackmail she'd dug up or bought about each Wizengamot member and high Ministry official and decided to release today. Personally, she'd thought the Burkes' penchant for bestiality would have drawn more eyes.

"But how did you get it all coordinated at once?" Harry was grinning at her again, looking as if he would hop from foot to foot in a moment. She had once thought she would have to train that childish exuberance out of him, but was glad it had not been necessary. He never let it interfere with his work. "How did you convince them to _print_ it?"

Narcissa smiled. "I found the people who had it to sell, or who did not realize what they had and needed money. And where pressure can be brought to bear in one direction, it can be brought to bear in another."

Harry sighed and flopped back on the couch behind him, with one of those lightning-fast changes of mood that had bewildered Lucius so much when Draco was younger. "I don't think I'll ever be as good as you."

"You are much younger than me and you received a kinder upbringing than I did once you were eleven. Give yourself time, Harry."

"Did they?"

"Did who what?"

"Did—your parents abuse you?" Harry was asking with his eyes fixed on the fire, his foot tapping nervously in front of him. Narcissa could understand why. There would be many reasons he would be uncomfortable asking that question.

"Ah." Narcissa considered that, her fingers drumming for a moment on the table. "I did not have the happiest childhood, Harry, but nothing like what you endured with the Dursleys."

"That's not an answer."

Narcissa smiled a little. _I only have myself to blame if he's turning the training he received back on me._ "You're right, it's not," she agreed gently. "But I was given a choice to embrace the discipline. Would you say that I have abused you because I trained you?"

" _No_. of course not! But they wanted you to do something else first, didn't they?"

"Yes, they wanted me to be quiet and biddable."

Harry gawked at her for a second, as if he literally could not imagine that. Narcissa reached out and gently closed his mouth.

Harry managed to recover long enough to whisper, "Did you?"

"No, of course not. But it took several years for my parents to realize that I would never fulfill their dreams for me."

"That isn't really an answer, either."

"I know, but those are memories that I do not wish to share with you. They are not happy, but they need cast no tarnish on our victory this day, or on the training that you embraced of your own free will—or on your feeling for Sirius. He did not know, and my family did not live in Grimmauld Place."

From the way Harry started, she had caught onto exactly why Harry was worried about this. He shook his head and gave her a faint, exasperated smile. "You're far too good at guessing what's underneath my questions. I'm worried for _you_ , too, you know."

"I know that." And Narcissa could acknowledge that if she did not want her sons' worry, she should not have cut her own throat while facing a werewolf army. She bent down to kiss his forehead. "This is still a day of triumph for us. Go out and show your classmates that."

Harry grinned at her again, touched her wrist with fingers that Narcissa knew wanted to grip harder than he let them, and shot out the door like a comet. Narcissa turned back to the paper.

At least they had put the bestiality story on page two.

* * *

" _But why_?"

Minerva's voice was taut and strained in the way that the tail of a mouse caught under her claws might be. Narcissa tilted her head a little as she considered the woman. "You have no proof that it was me. The _Prophet_ sometimes prints salacious stories, you know."

"But not ones that target every single member of the Wizengamot except for Malfoy allies!" Minerva swung around. "I _know_ it was you!"

"Certainty is a rare and dangerous thing," Narcissa said mildly. "And I assure you, there are stories that mention embarrassing things about the Goyles, the Burkes, and others who have long been our friends."

Minerva sat down, hard, in the chair behind her desk, and closed her eyes. "I wish I know what you were doing," she whispered.

"You thought you knew, a moment ago."

Minerva ignored her interjection, and kept her eyes closed. "I'm charged with the protection of the school and the students, and that means keeping an eye on politics. And I can't tell _what_ you're doing. I can't even tell if it's something I should be moving to counter."

Narcissa nodded. "I can see why that would be confusing."

"You will still not _tell_ me."

"But we have an excellent understanding. I have already taken actions that would jeopardize that excellent understanding. Why do so again?"

Minerva opened her eyes with a slow, despairing grimace. "Then that means that you _did_ cause this, and you're plotting—what? The destruction of the Wizengamot? Deposing another Minister, even though this one has done nothing wrong but be reluctant to investigate Alastor Moody? Getting some kind of obscure revenge for Dark families?"

That last one startled Narcissa into laughing. "Of course not. I've defended my family against Dark wizards as well as Light ones."

Minerva sighed and buried her head in her hands. "But what am I to _do_?"

"Reassure students if they come to you in a panic. Take care of Hogwarts. Lead. Nothing should change here."

Minerva stared at her with narrowed eyes. " _Should_ is not _will_."

"Of course not, but it's as much certainty as we get in this world," Narcissa said, and stood. "More certainty than some members of the Wizengamot have right now. And I think I hear someone knocking on the gargoyle's head. You should probably let them in."

Minerva's glance changed. It was deep and wary and unimpressed now. "Probably a student from one of the families who will be affected by this. Did you think about that at all before you arranged for the publication of these articles?"

It seemed that Minerva wouldn't be put off by Narcissa's refusal to confirm. She spread her hands. "Did their mothers, fathers, cousins, and aunts think about their crimes and sexual indiscretions before they committed them?" she asked. "More to the point, did they think about _keeping_ them from people?"

"Sometimes you disgust me," Minerva whispered.

Narcissa sighed and left the office, since she already knew that nothing would change there. She wished she could tell Minerva that this was the nature of the political game. Many of the families in the Wizengamot had played well for a long time, but that was part of the problem: they had let themselves get overconfident, had thought that because they had been on top for the last few generations, they would always be there.

 _Were you abused?_

Narcissa's mind returned to Harry's question as she let the Tower's moving steps carry her down. No, she hadn't been. It had been a hard childhood in some ways, yes. But that was a gift of strength to her. She had never thought that the Blacks would remain on top forever, because she had seen how they were thrown down.

That had been one of the several reasons that she had been willing to accept the name Malfoy when she married Lucius. Let her leave behind the legacy of a family that had always been overconfident and reckless, and embrace the glory of a rising one, one that she could keep shining.

It was a pity that Minerva did not understand that.

* * *

Narcissa surveyed the paralyzed Aurors caught in her office by her traps the next morning, and slowly shook her head. _Honestly, Scrimgeour._

They had obviously been sent to arrest her, and had thought they would come into her office and ambush her; they had as obviously not known where her quarters actually were. Narcissa sighed. She had caught Scrimgeour in the net of blackmail because it was politics, but now the deeper wisdom of her decision had emerged. He could not be a good ally for her in the long term when he did something this self-destructive.

Narcissa spent a long moment searching the Aurors' robes for the Portkeys that they would have, and then another moment casting the necessary charms. She tossed the Portkeys back at the Aurors, and watched as they vanished.

Scrimgeour would find them later in his office, covered in silver and green wrapping paper and with a bow occupying each mouth. Narcissa hoped he would be able to read the message, and grasp the not-excellent state of the understanding between them.

Otherwise, she would have to question her own past decision to think he was a good ally in the short term, either.


End file.
